In this edition: six coffees released this past week & the guys who brewed pourovers on Mount Everest.

Not in this edition: the first millennial saint.

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If you missed Volume 1, "an indonesian co-ferment, a stunning red honey ethiopian & de minimis chaos," you can read it here.

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Welcome to the second edition of the coffee index. Thanks for not unsubscribing.

It was a great week for new coffee. Since I hit send last Thursday, I've added 119 new coffees to the spreadsheet. It was a challenge to pick just six of them to write about. I may have to expand this list to seven or even... (gasp) eight.

1. The first two roasters this week are among the roasters I most want to try coffee from. A Matter of Concrete in Rotterdam, Netherlands doesn't need an introduction. Fun fact: I convinced my family to visit Rotterdam in 2007 after reading about these ridiculous cube-shaped houses there. It was suuuper cool to walk around them for roughly 15 minutes, and I don't remember anything else about the trip. Ah to be a teenager. Anyway, this washed Ethiopian landrace from Ocholo Bedecho sounds like everything you'd want in a coffee from Guji, and if it's roasted by Rob at AMOC, you know it'll be good. Tasting notes: Bergamot, black tea, subtle florals.​
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2. Then there's Hydrangea, in Berkeley, California. On Sunday, they dropped four new coffees, including a mejorado from Pepe Jijon and a gesha from Hacienda La Esmeralda. So why, you may ask am I writing about this washed caturra from (slightly) lesser known producer Frank Torres? Because Frank used to work for Starbucks and now he produces coffee so delicious, a shop like Hydrangea is buying it. Tasting notes: yellow grapefruit, fig, black tea.
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3. Last week I featured an anaerobic co-ferment from Indonesia (and I erred in saying the roaster, New Math, is in Cleveland, when in fact it is in Chicago); this week we've got a washed gesha from the Bolaven Plateau in Laos, roasted by the folks at Moon Goat. If Laos grows just 1.3 percent of the world's coffee, and of that, roughly two-thirds is Robusta, then I think we can all agree a Laotian gesha is quite the rare coffee. Tasting notes: Dried blueberries, red plum, maple syrup.
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4. It's also rare to see a small, relatively new roaster have an exclusive on a coffee negotiated directly with the producer, but that's what Brainwave Coffee Roasters did with this very small (17-pound) lot of maragogipe from Alejandro Ariza of Finca la Argelia. Brainwave co-owner Max Zelenevich met Ariza at a cupping in New York City, where he learned Ariza, 29, picked pink bourbon with his grandfather on the farm as a child. Who knows if he would have stayed in the family business, but it doesn't hurt to have a family friend in none other than famed producer Diego Bermudez suggesting it would be a cool idea. Brainwave also sells a pink bourbon and sudan rume grown on Ariza's farm. Use the code COFFEEINDEX for 15 percent off. Tasting notes: Plum, mango, mint, chocolate.​
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5. Wush Wush is just a strain of Ethiopian landrace coffee (okay, not just), but given its generally intense fruity and floral characteristics, I couldn't help but be intrigued by this 120-hour anaerobically fermented offering​ from Edison Coffee in Lewisville, Texas. If you look at their offerings, you'll see tasting notes of fudge, milk chocolate, dried apricot and black tea. And then there are this coffee's notes. Tasting notes: Watermelon Sour Patch Kids, jasmine, fruit bomb.
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6. We end with a bourbon chiroso from Brandywine Coffee in Wilmington, Delaware. Brandywine says to expect a "a fluffy, flavorful coffee adventure," which admittedly doesn't help me understand this coffee. Our friends at Sey Coffee have written in the past about the two cultivars of chiroso that grow in the Urrao region of Colombia — the much more common caturra chiroso, which is actually 100 percent Ethiopian landrace, and bourbon chiroso, about which less is known. This one comes from second generation producer Yesica Moreno at Finca El Rosal. Tasting notes: Passionfruit, intense florals, apricot.

Here’s the first in a recurring series I want to do about coffee in extreme places. If we’re going to talk about making coffee on Mount Everest, I guess the inverse is pulling shots on a nuclear submarine, so if you know anyone in the Navy, please e-mail me. Seriously.

My question was, how do you make good coffee when you’re halfway up the mountain and water boils at 84 Celsius? And the answer came back — you don’t really, and it doesn’t matter because you can’t taste much nuance anyway.

“It’s like being in an airplane or having a head cold,” Ben Ayers told me. He’s lived in Nepal for 25 years, several of those in the Everest region.

“The flavors are there – it’s just not as obvious.”

Ayers is friends with Kami Diki Phinasa, the owner of Cafe 4410, which is probably the highest elevation coffee shop in the world. I wanted to chat with her for this edition of the newsletter, but Nepal is...in turmoil.

Okay but tell me this story only nerdier, you say. And I say uh huh, yeah, sure.

​Jake Norton has hiked Everest eight times. While he’s not above instant coffee in a thermos at the summit or gas station coffee on a long road trip, he’s also brought a makeshift pourover set-up onto the world’s highest mountain.

“At lower camps...we’d have just your basic setup with a plastic basket and paper or reusable filter, and we’d make it by the cup,” he says. “At the higher camps, I’d often, but not always, carry a small, collapsible pourover setup, usually a silicone or plastic/metal [dripper] with integrated filter.”

In 2012, Norton took the above photo while leading a team on an attempt on the West Ridge while also directing a film about the first ascent in 1963. In the cup? "Likely a pourover."

But what about the coffee itself? In the 90s, Norton would bring bags of pre-ground Costco or Starbucks coffee, but once Nepalese coffee became more prominent (at least locally) in the early 2000s, he ditched the bulk coffee from America and bought it in Kathmandu.

But still pre-ground.

“I have been there with friends numerous times – from Seattle of course – who scoffed at my luddite coffee tendencies and always had a hand grinder for their brews.”

Next time someone tells me I’m religious about my coffee habits, I’m gonna bust out the story about the guys who brought hand grinders up onto Mount Everest.

That's it for Volume 2. If you have an idea for a future newsletter, want to talk coffee, or have any feedback whatsoever — just reply to this e-mail.

Next week: six more coffees, and grocery store gesha (subscribe to get 20g of it, if you're into that kinda thing).

Thanks for reading.

Jeff