Finca Updates Archieven • Medellín Secret

Under the saman trees

This time we weren't there for the harvest, so it was a quieter visit than usual. An afternoon with Silvia and her family in Ciudad Bolívar, the small coffee town a couple of hours south of Medellín.

We spent most of it on Plaza Bolívar, under the saman trees. Twelve of them line the square, wide and sprawling, giving the place a feeling that's hard to put into words.

The saman is the symbol of Ciudad Bolívar, and sitting there you understand why.

Farmers, traders, people from all corners of the coffee world end up here at some point, over a tintico and a chat about the season. That's exactly how our afternoon went.

Afterwards we drove up to the finca. The trees are in bloom right now.

Small white flowers scattered across the branches, the plants quietly preparing to set fruit for the Traviesa, the smaller mid-harvest that usually falls in April and May here in Antioquia.

The thing on everyone's mind is the weather. Colombia has been in a La Niña cycle for a while, which in this part of the Andes means more rain and cooler temperatures than usual. Earlier this year Antioquia was one of the worst affected regions, and too much moisture during flowering can really hurt the quality of what follows. It's one of those things you can't control, only adapt to.

Silvia is doing exactly that. She's been making biochar on the finca, burning organic matter and working it back into the soil to build resilience over time.

She's also mulching with dried leaves to retain moisture and feed the soil slowly. Both are rooted in permaculture, and walking the land you can see it's working. The trees look healthy.

We're hoping to get back later in the year when the main harvest is underway. Until then, we'll keep the finca page updated with news from Silvia.

Taste the coffee from Finca La Luisa →

At the foot of the volcano

Posted on by Elisa Noorduijn

At the foot of Volcán de Agua, just outside the city of Antigua, the Zelaya family dries coffee every day. When I arrived at their processing facility, I was taken up to the balcony. While sipping on a cup of coffee, I watched the workers raking the drying beans across the patio below, with the volcano looming behind them. I couldn't have asked for a better start to the day!

The tour that followed took me through the wet and dry processing stages step by step. I'll save the details for a separate post, but one thing I want to highlight: the quality control carried out here is impressive.

At every point of the process, beans that don't make the cut are set aside. If they're too light, too small, too irregular, they get taken out and processed separately to the main harvest. Nothing slips through! That precision, applied with the consistency done here, is something that helps deliver the exceptional cup that Finca La Candelaria is known for.

After the tour came a blind cupping with the team. Twenty-four cups, none of them labelled. My favourite? La Candelaria, as it should be! But there was also another single finca coffee I hadn't come across before that caught me off guard. We'll share more about this soon!

Among the selection were a few blends, and the difference was immediately apparent. It confirmed once again what we already knew: single finca coffee from a well-run farm delivers a complexity that blends are rarely able to match.

Good news by the way: the team at La Candelaria has recently tightened a number of processes, resulting in higher cupping scores. The new harvest coming up is one to look forward to.

After lunch we drove to the finca itself. Volcán de Fuego, which rises right alongside the land, sadly retreated behind clouds that afternoon. I couldn't see it, but its presence was certainly still felt. You feel how the landscape here influences everything.

The harvest was winding down. The trees were mostly bare, pickers working through the final round of coffee picking. Not a single cherry can be left behind, since fallen fruit attracts pests.

During the drive around the farm I also got a look at the agricultural techniques that Luis Pedro has introduced, drawing on his agronomy training. We'll go into more detail on that later, because it deserves a story of its own.

Luis Pedro himself was in the USA while I was visiting his farm. But his absence was barely noticeable, because his presence is still felt everywhere. The people who work there talk about him with such pride and warmth that is impossible to fake. Someone who has that kind of loyalty from his people is clearly doing more than just growing good coffee.

At the end of the day I returned to the balcony where I had began the day. The drying patios lay in the late afternoon light, workers quietly gathering the beans. Every morning the beans are spread out under the open sky, and every evening they are brought back in. A ritual that repeats itself here every single day.

Volcán de Agua looked on, as it has done for four generations.

Taste the coffee of Finca La Candelaria ->

Visiting Santa Elena

Posted on by Elisa Noorduijn

s’ Nachts vertelde mijn gastheer over Finca Santa Elena, die vroeger opgloeide in het donker. Kleine vliegtuigjes die over de bergen vlogen, zagen beneden het land dat al licht had, terwijl de rest van de regio nog grotendeels in duisternis lag.

Het was het werk van José Figueres Ferrer. Don Pepe, zoals iedereen hem noemde, was toen niet alleen het eigenaar van dit land, maar ook president van Costa Rica.

In die jaren, liet hij infrastructuur aanleggen die zijn tijd ver vooruit was. Santa Elena was een van de eerste in de regio die elektrisch licht kreeg, in een tijd dat San José al tot de vroegste steden ter wereld behoorde die werden verlicht. De finca had ook een van de eerste telefoons in het land.

De volgende ochtend reed ik door de bergen van Tarrazú. De weg slingert langs hellingen vol koffieplanten, strak in rijen, eindeloos doorlopend. Toen we aankwamen bij Finca Santa Elena, gingen we meteen op pad voor een rondleiding over het terrein, achterin de laadbak van een pickup truck, samen met Luzma.

Terwijl we over de paden reden, zag ik de koffiebomen van dichtbij. Ze zijn hoger dan je zou denken, vol en zwaar van de rijpe kersen.

We liepen langs de wormbedden waar pulp en restmateriaal langzaam veranderen in compost. Even verderop staan de huisjes van de plukkers. Kinderen speelden buiten, renden tussen de gebouwen door, terwijl op de achtergrond werd gewerkt. Alles ligt dicht bij elkaar. Werk, leven, familie.

Er is iets tastbaars opgebouwd rondom deze koffie: een gemeenschap, een ritme, een gevoel van ergens bij horen dat verder gaat dan één seizoen of één oogst.

In het beneficio, waar de bonen worden verwerkt, komt het verleden weer naar boven. De zwembaden die ooit voor arbeiders zijn aangelegd door Don Pepe, liggen er nog steeds. Nu liggen ze vol koffie die in de zon ligt te drogen.

Verderop staat een oude Pelton-turbine uit de jaren veertig. Via een smal kanaal wordt water uit de bergen naar beneden geleid om elektriciteit op te wekken. De machine werkt nog.

Het water dat wordt gebruikt in de verwerking stroomt daarna door een zuiveringssysteem en keert schoon terug in de rivier. Dat klinkt eenvoudig, maar hier is dat het resultaat van jaren werk en keuzes die telkens opnieuw gemaakt worden.

Aan het einde van de dag liepen we naar die rivier. Onderweg kwamen we langs een klein schooltje dat Luzma heeft helpen bouwen.

Bij de oevers liet ze zien wat de regen de afgelopen jaren heeft gedaan. Stukken waren weggeslagen, delen opnieuw opgebouwd. Ze vertelde hoe ze dat stap voor stap hebben hersteld.

Luzma is niet de eerste die hier iets bouwt. Maar wat zij doet, zie je overal terug.

Proef de koffie van Finca Santa Elena ->