Kopi Luwak - the Emperor’s New Coffee?
We’ve all heard the story of the emperor’s new clothes, right? A Danish folktale penned in 1837 by none other than Hans Christian Anderson, (he of `The Little Mermaid’ fame), about a vain emperor who spends a ridiculous amount of cash on lavish clothes at the expense of State matters. He gets his comeuppance when two swindlers arrive in his kingdom claiming to be magical weavers who can craft beautiful garments from a mysterious thread that has the added benefit of being invisible to the stupid. Obviously, the emperor hires them to make him a new outfit and, along with all of his hangers-on, periodically drops in on the weavers to watch the work in progress. In fear of being labelled inept, they all rejoice in the beauty of the non-existent garments. The story culminates with the emperor parading naked through his kingdom, with all his subjects uncomfortably going along with the charade, too frightened to state the obvious until a young boy loudly announces: “the Emperor is naked!” Classic HCA, I think you’ll all agree.
So, how does this relate to coffee? A friend of mine recently brought me a bag of ‘weasel coffee’ back from Vietnam, and as I was desperately trying to make myself like it, the above fable kept popping into my head. People rave about this stuff! Jack Nicholson drinks it in the movie The Bucket List, for heaven’s sake – who am I to poo-poo it? (Excuse the pun). Officially known as Kopi Luwak and originating from Indonesia, it is also known in Vietnam as cà phê Chồn, and has various other names depending upon which region of Asia you find yourself in. Kopi Luwak is currently one of the most sought-after luxury beverages on the planet, with some trendy London and New York cafes charging £50 - 60 a cup. Having its origin in the Dutch colonial days, it started out as a 19th Century peasant drink – they weren’t allowed to drink the coffee they were being forced to cultivate for their colonial masters, so they made their morning brew out of the partially digested coffee seeds found in the dung of the local wildlife. The Dutch, realising they were missing a trick, jumped on the band wagon, started exporting it and the rest is history, although it never really entered the public conscience until about 20 years ago. Essentially, Kopi Luwak, (or civet cat), coffee relies on the digestive tract of a small, furry mammal that looks a bit like the result of a drunken night of passion between a raccoon and a mongoose, (they are actually more closely related to Mongeese (?) than cats), with a bit of meerkat thrown in for the cute factor, (they do look quite cute to be fair). The ‘weasel’ in question is actually a palm civet, (other names include ‘musang’ or ‘toddy cat’), which can be found in Sumatra, Java, Bali, Sulaweshi and East Timor. In the wild, the animal eats the coffee cherry, (conveniently only choosing to devour the ripest, healthiest and sweetest of fruits), partially digests (and ferments) it, then, after 24 – 36 hours, excretes what can only be likened to a Topic bar minus the chocolate coating. (Apologies for the mental image). Eager farmers then gather them up, (sometimes roaming many hectares to find a small pile of dung containing only a few seeds), thoroughly wash them (of course they do) and continue the processing. Unfortunately, and unsurprisingly, there is a darker side to the story, and many animals are captured and kept in solitary confinement in tiny, filthy cages and force-fed the coffee cherries, foie-gras style, to enable each animal to produce a commercially viable amount of coffee per year. Sound good? Didn’t think so. (Check out James Hoffman’s YouTube video ‘Kopi Luwak/Civet Poop Coffee: Disgusting or Delightful?’). One reason for the huge global demand is the widely pedalled myth that only 500kg of Kopi Luwak is in existence at any one time, but many of the battery farms are thought to produce well over ten times that volume a year, each.
Ok, for balance, I should at this point tell you that considerable scientific research has been done on the coffee. Despite being initially contaminated by the animals’ fecal matter, once fully processed and roasted, the coffee is safe to drink and is demonstrably free of e. coli and other harmful bacteria. It is also lower in protein, acidity and caffeine than regular coffee. Professor Massimo Marcone, (Google him, he currently serves as Professor of Food Science at the Ontario Agricultural College), claims that the palm civet’s digestive process involves enzymes that pass through the coffee beans’ pectin layer, (one of the major constituents of the primary cell wall), and changes its protein and molecular structure. This creates sugars that mellow the flavour, apparently, resulting in a sweeter, less bitter taste.
So, what does it taste like? Well, the weasel coffee my friend gave me came in a small, sealed 200g foil bag and was extremely oily and dark, (there was no date on the bag to indicate when it had been roasted). There was a mixture of peaberry and regular beans in the bag suggesting a mixture of varieties, and it had a pronounced, cloying vanilla/cherry tobacco flavour that was verging on sickly. I found the aroma to be more pleasant than the taste, which accompanied a thick, molasses-like mouthfeel with a ‘dark’ texture. I tried it as an espresso, (which had a good crema, so I’m assuming it was relatively fresh), but was unable to drink a double shot as the flavour was just too pungent. It is also worth considering that my batch was almost certainly a Robusta, which accounts for around 95% of Vietnam’s coffee production. Considering all of the above, perhaps it would have been more bearable through milk, (although diehard Kopi Luwak fans would consider this heresy), but I really did not find it remotely enjoyable and, to be honest, didn’t want to drink any more of it. I am intrigued as to whether it could work as a cold brew, and I think that will be the fate of the remaining few grammes I have, so watch this space.
In short, I found it very hard to be entirely objective in this test as I just couldn’t get past the fact that this coffee had been through the digestive system of the Paradoxurus hermaphroditism, (palm civet to you and me). There are other issues: it is estimated that up to 75% of coffees marketed as Kopi Luwak are just cheap, naff coffees that have been palmed off as, erm, palm civet coffee and fraud is rife. (There is a really interesting BBC News film on YouTube all about it – ‘Our World Coffee’s Cruel Secret – Kopi Luwak – civet cats – Indonesia’). There is also the ethical issue of perpetuating a cruel, criminal trade by purchasing this product, and I’m inclined to agree with James Hoffman (@jimseven) in urging you not to bother. If you want to blow 50 quid on a cup of coffee, great, but there are better options out there. If you’re still undecided, a Guardian article from 2013 entitled ‘Civet coffee: why it’s time to cut the crap’ by Tony Wild, (the coffee consultant and author of Coffee: A Dark Industry who claims to have introduced Kopi Luwak to the UK in 1991), documents the deep regret he feels about his involvement in the industry. The article is still available online.
In conclusion, I am not a fan, (Really? I hear you gasp), and although I am very grateful to my friend for allowing me the opportunity to try Kopi Luwak on your behalf, I am also very glad that I did not pay for it! In my opinion, it is almost certainly The Emperor’s New Coffee, and I would rather parade naked through the streets of Ipswich than drink it ever again.
Anyway, I’m off for a coffee. Crappuccino, anyone?