Panama Gesha Auction Lot #4: I Spent My Rent On This and I'd Do It Again
$112 for 100 grams. Yes. My landlord can wait — the man wouldn't know terroir if it foreclosed on him.
Gesha (NEVER Geisha, you absolute philistine — I will physically leave a dinner party over this) is not a coffee. It is a worldview. It separates those who *taste* from those who merely *drink*, the unwashed masses sucking down their burnt corporate swill in their little cars.
I cupped this at a private session that you were not invited to. We sat in reverent silence on reclaimed church pews. Someone hummed. It was appropriate.
The aroma alone caused a man in attendance to renounce his finance career and become a forager. The jasmine notes were so pronounced I had to lie down. The peach finish lingered for what my notes describe as 'an emotionally complicated 40 seconds.'
“Jasmine that has read philosophy, but make it a personality.”
I served this in a single-origin handthrown ceramic cup made by a potter who only works when the tide is out. To drink Gesha from a mug with a HANDLE is to spit on the grave of craft.
You will never taste this. And honestly? That's what makes it special. 9.91/10.
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