Coffee grew here long before it grew in most of the places now printed on bags. The Philippines exported in volume through the nineteenth century, until leaf rust moved through the plantations of Batangas and took the trees with it. What came back afterwards was mostly robusta, grown for instant coffee and bought by weight. Arabica held on in the highlands, in small plots, largely unremarked.
That is the ground we buy on.
Why we buy here
Only one of the two reasons is sentiment. We are based here, and the distance between a farm in the Cordillera and our roastery is measured in hours rather than shipping weeks. That shortens the chain and it shortens the conversation.
The second reason is the ground itself. The Cordillera and the upper slopes of Mt. Apo sit high enough and cool enough to grow arabica that stands beside anything from Huila or Yirgacheffe. We have cupped enough of it to say that plainly.
Where we buy
- Sagada, Mountain Province. Typica at 1,500 metres, dried whole by Lourdes Aligo, who farms without synthetic fertilisers or pesticides. It becomes Lourdes.
- Bansalan, Davao del Sur. Catimor from the slopes of Balutakay, on Mount Apo's shoulder. JL Dela Cerna's lot is sealed and fermented before drying; Ariel Morales's lot rests through a longer ferment. They become Apo Sandawa and Darago.
- Candelaria, Quezon. Excelsa grown on tall, spreading trees by Ernie Balmes, at a modest 500 metres. It becomes Adarna.
What makes it difficult
Farms here are small, often a hectare or less, and a season's arabica from one of them may fill a few sacks. Picking is done by hand in several passes. Drying space is limited and the rain does not wait. Most local buying stations still price against a robusta benchmark that has nothing to do with a hand-picked arabica lot, so a grower has little reason to take the extra care unless someone has agreed in advance to pay for it.
Getting a lot from a Sagada slope to a roaster intact takes more coordination than buying a container. It is the part of this work that is genuinely hard, and it is the part that decides whether the coffee is any good.
What we look for
The cup comes first, and we taste it before we know whose it is. After that the question is whether we can buy it again — whether the farm can repeat what it did, and whether we can commit to enough of it to be worth their while. A single remarkable harvest is a story. A lot we can buy for five years is a relationship, and it is the one worth having.
Where to start
If you have not drunk Philippine arabica before, start with Lourdes. Natural process, medium roast, citrus and dark chocolate with a soft floral lift — a clear demonstration that the highlands here can produce a delicate coffee, not just a strong one.