Very frantically so, we had been emailing and phoning farmers and coffee importers alike, yet we had zero bites. Not even a nibble. Losing track on the who’s who, I received an email from ‘G’ who works for a larger food corporation across both the UK and the Americas, specifically Venezuela. To our astonishment, in the first email, they said they could source beans. Tick. They said they did not deal with commodity coffee but only specialty coffee from current harvests. Tick. They then told us that without them working across both the UK and Venezuela, because of the difficulties with importing and exporting (red tape on steroids) it would be impossible to proceed – but that’s exactly what they do. Tick number 3, we may have a winner!
After exchanging details over the next few weeks and speaking on the phone, we would learn even more about the current situation and obstacles that needed scaling. The reality was that we, you and most of the coffee lovers you know may well have drank Venezuelan coffee recently without realising, although likely not specialty; to escape the red tape…some… individuals will manipulate the market by taking advantage of Venezuelan farmers in-country prices and lack of export options, then bundle the green beans in with produce from Colombia to be shipped to Europe. There, all coffee will be designated as Colombian, losing any traceability and any credit or recompense to the farmer or country.
G however happens to be one of, if not the only authorised exporter of Venezuelan coffee beans to mainland Europe… a self admission. Within a month (by Christmas which was nice) we had managed to have in our hand a small bag of pre-roasted speciality coffee from the Henri Pittier National Park in the Venezuelan coastal region near Maracay – an area that we happen to know extremely well. The beans had been roasted in a truer South American style which was very dark, and did dominate the flavour profile a little, but it was clear that the quality was there.
We kept in close contact with G moving into the new year whilst keeping tabs on the harvest. We knew it would be a few months until we heard anything more. What we did know by that time was that very few people were willing to deal with the hassle of Venezuelan beans for one. And two, farmers and producers that wanted to export certainly were not willing to deal with two rookies without an already established brand. We got our heads down and got to work. I will cover this in more detail soon, but ultimately, we sourced 3 beans and established the Andes Project that you see now. Then in late February, the chase started again.
Through speaking to G, there were 3 farms they were working closely with and had good relationships with, with beans they were hoping to export. We needed to sample the beans, and by luck, the better half of this duo just happened to be in Venezuela on some other business at the end of March. G arranged for the 3 samples alongside some samples for themselves who were currently in the UK to be delivered and then taken back in a suitcase. Now this was a tad scary, as what you imagine samples to be (some pocket-sized bags that you’ll slip in a jacket) and what they are, are two very different things. A kind looking man rolled up one day after a quick call ahead and dropped off 3 kilos in total of green coffee beans split into 6 smaller bags, but all sealed in two large Grainpro sacks. Not bags we could check the contents of. Not bags that we could open or see into. I mean sure, he looked friendly enough… and I am sure that’s what all the mules say… but we had gotten this far.
Tightly crammed in with clothes and an unnecessary amount of chocolate, the bags thankfully sailed through customs without a hitch, and even better, we discovered contained only green coffee beans once we had them home. It has been almost a year since our hunt began, but sitting in our office, we held up three samples; one from Trujillo; one from Tachira and one labelled ‘bonoco’. We stared at them like they were made of gold. Without much hesitation – we got them to a friend of ours who swiftly roasted them up in small batches in his Ikawa. Let’s see if the juice was worth the squeeze so far.