Confessions of a Coffee Eater

My second article under the “Locavoracious” banner and already I'm breaking theme. The simple fact is I love and adore coffee and, until a botanist (the best ever!) cultivates a coffea arabica strain that produces beans in Saskatchewan, I will drink this gift of nature with a small tinge of guilt but with no apologies.

My love affair with the coffee bean began seven years ago, in the Vietnam

countryside, specifically at a place called Khe Sanh. During the Vietnam

War, the US Marines held an airstrip near the town. Surrounded by North

Vietnamese forces, the Marines withstood a siege for nearly four months,

until the US Army pushed through and relieved them. This scene of fierce

fighting is now largely overgrown by native weeds and...a coffee plantation.

Standing on the overgrown runway, I watched my camera man try to engage

a little old woman who was harvesting the beans. Grinning widely, she

pretended to chase him off with her hand scythe, before returning her

attention to her lush plants. Standing there, watching this old woman at

work, I realised that the millions of coffees quaffed every morning around

the world, begin with men and women like her tending their crops with

loving care. It behooved me, then, to appreciate this incredible drink with

a similar devotion.

Over the years, I have been careful to buy organic, fair trade beans, at least

when finances allowed. Doing so, I thought, would mitigate the

environmental and social costs associated with a cash crop that flows from

typically poor countries into our own. This spring, however, I upped my

love affair with coffee by picking up two young coffea arabica plants from a

local greenhouse. Over the past six months I have nurtured these young trees

for the simple joy of watching them grow. It's all I can do; I know they will

never yield beans, though I hope I can one day coax them to flower for me.

I've also started roasting coffee beans. There's nothing better. During a trip

to our local Indian grocer, my wife handed me a 2lb bag of large green beans. “You'll love this,” she said. Written on the bag were two golden words: Ethiopian Coffee. She was right. There is very little in this world more satisfying than swirling your hand through just roasted coffee beans, and watching the chuff fall from them. It ranks almost as highly as grinding them, steeping them in a French press, and savouring the nutty tang of a freshly brewed pot.

Coffee may not fall under the locavore umbrella, at least not in Saskatchewan, but thankfully our choices now extend well beyond what's on offer from Nescafe, Folgers and Sanka. By purchasing in bulk, from environmentally and socially conscious suppliers, we help enrich the lives of the people who harvest this incredible staple, while improving dramatically what we pour into our Corner Gas coffee mugs every morning. Thus concludes my confession.

Paul Compton,

homebrewing fanatic and locavore.