This started when I learned my distant uncle owned a small plantation in Indonesia
Background
Coffee, to me, has always been about finding sweetness in bitterness. Not just as a flavor profile, but as a philosophy—the idea that even in something inherently bitter, there’s always sweetness to be found if you search for it. That’s why I drink coffee. That’s why I care about what’s on my tongue.
The moment this shifted from casual appreciation to genuine obsession was when I discovered my parent’s cousin owned their own small coffee plantation. Suddenly, coffee wasn’t just something I bought at a shop—it was something that came from land, from family, from a process I could trace. I haven’t stopped learning since.
Moving to Indonesia and working remotely gave me the time and excuse to explore. Without the structure of an office, coffee shops became my third places. And Indonesia, with its volcanic soil and elevation variations, became my classroom. Every shop taught me something new. Every bag of beans was a lesson.
What I’ve Learned About Indonesian Coffee
Before Indonesia, my palatte was stuck on a default understanding of single origin. I thought: one origin, one taste profile. Linear. Predictable.
I was completely wrong.
Moving here and exploring its diverse bean ranges showed me that even beans from the same lot can have wildly different complexities. Slightly different elevation in the same region in Indonesia already results in a variety change of the beans itself. This is likely due to how complex the composition of the land is—volcanic and humid in some areas, dry in others. The chemical composition of the soil changes the beans, which changes the flavor notes.
It’s not just origin. It’s elevation, processing method, fermentation time, rainfall patterns, even the specific microclimate of a hillside. Indonesia’s geography—thousands of islands, varying altitudes, different soil types—creates this incredible natural laboratory for coffee. You can taste the land in the cup.
Brewing Methods: Percolation vs. Immersion
I’ve tried V60 (v01 and v02), Switch, metal dripper, cold brewing, moka pots, espressos, origami pour over. At first, it felt overwhelming—so many tools, so many variables. But eventually, I realized they all collapse into two fundamental methods: percolation (pour over) and immersion (steeping).
Percolation extracts the beans’ oils through fast and quick agitation. Water moves through the coffee bed, pulling flavors as it passes. You get clarity, brightness, distinct notes. But it’s finicky—grind size, pour speed, water temperature all matter intensely. It’s high control, high skill ceiling.
Immersion retrieves a more prolonged oil pulling. The coffee steeps in water, extracting slowly and evenly. You get body, sweetness, a rounder profile. Less control over which flavors you pull, but more forgiving and consistent.
Almost all brewing tools are some combination of timing and structure between these two methods. A Switch is immersion until you release the valve, then it becomes percolation. An espresso is extreme percolation under pressure. A moka pot is pressurized percolation with some immersion characteristics.
Understanding this framework changed everything. Now when I try a new brewing method, I’m not learning a new tool—I’m adjusting the balance between percolation and immersion to fit the bean.
Why This Matters & What I’d Like to See in the Market
Most people’s entry point to coffee is milk coffee. Lattes. Cappuccinos. Kopi susu. It’s approachable, it’s sweet, it’s familiar.
But most milk coffee is dull. Baristas don’t give it attention. Most lattes taste similar because they use similar blends, and the pressurization of espresso depresses the flavors into only a few notes. Cold brew milk coffee is sometimes overpowered by the milk itself—the coffee becomes background noise instead of a conversation partner.
There isn’t enough balance of body, the flavor profile of milk, and the flavor profile of the beans.
What I’d like to see in the market is what CHAGEE did for milk tea: bring the specialty experience to the masses by expanding their existing palate, not replacing it. CHAGEE didn’t tell people “stop drinking sweet milk tea, drink pure tea.” They said: “Here’s how milk tea can be nuanced, balanced, complex.” Jasmine, pu-erh, oolong—different bases, different profiles, still approachable.
Coffee can do this too. Milk coffee doesn’t have to be a compromise between “serious coffee” (black, single origin, hand-poured) and “accessible coffee” (sweet, milky, generic). It can be both.
What I’m Trying to Achieve
I’m trying to create a manual brewing method for milk coffee that allows for a full-body, balanced taste where the beans don’t fight the milk.
Right now, I’m experimenting with different immersion-percolation ratios. Cold brew is too flat—it extracts bitterness over time but loses brightness. Espresso is too sharp—it punches through milk but loses subtlety. Pour-over is too delicate—milk drowns it.
What I’m chasing is something in between. A brewing method that:
- Extracts enough body to stand up to milk (immersion’s strength)
- Retains enough clarity to let the bean’s character come through (percolation’s strength)
- Creates a flavor profile that complements milk rather than fights it or hides behind it
I haven’t found the right one yet. But I’m getting closer.
The Structure of Future Notes
As I continue experimenting with methods and recipes, I’m going to document:
Brewing experiments:
- Method used (tool, grind size, water temp, ratio)
- Bean details (origin, processing, roast level)
- Milk type and ratio
- Tasting notes (before milk, after milk, how they interact)
- What worked, what didn’t, what surprised me
Bean deep dives:
- Specific Indonesian regions I’m exploring
- Processing methods and how they affect flavor
- Elevation, soil type, farm details when available
- Tasting notes and brewing recommendations
Theory and learning:
- New concepts I encounter (fermentation styles, processing innovations)
- Conversations with roasters, farmers, baristas
- Frameworks that help me understand coffee better
The search continues:
- Iterations toward the balanced milk coffee I’m chasing
- What I’ve ruled out, what I’m still testing
- Open questions and hypotheses
This is less about finding the “perfect cup” and more about understanding the variables. Every experiment teaches me something. Every failed attempt clarifies what I’m looking for. The sweetness is in the search itself.
To be continued as I keep brewing, tasting, learning