The Journey to Altieri: A Cupping Revelation in Panama

It is one thing to drink coffee. It is quite another to stand amidst the very trees that bore its cherries, to inhale the coffee blossom-perfumed air of a high-altitude Panamanian estate while the breeze carries whispers of volcanic earth and Atlantic moisture. This, you see, is no casual dalliance with caffeine; this is an encounter with the sublime. Our visit there was few days after the rain during the dry season, which was not supposed to happen. Climate change played a major role in outcomes of this current harvest season. Though this sudden rainfall in the dry season has confused the coffee trees and compelled them to flower.

Altieri Specialty Coffee, tucked away in the breathtaking elevations of Boquete, is more than a farm—it is an homage. A testament to both patience and obsession, its very lots are named after family members, an intimate, almost poetic declaration that coffee, to them, is not just agriculture, nor commerce, but lineage. One does not merely buy a sack of their beans. One inherits a story.

I arrived with my head of coffee, Wafi, prepared for what we imagined would be a routine cupping session of nice Geishas. We were wrong. The upper-level lab where this ritual unfolded was a study in contrast: modern precision framed against the unspoiled beauty of the highlands, where the world outside the window seemed to dissolve into a kind of verdant eternity. The view alone was enough to steal the breath. But we had come for the coffee, and soon enough, we were at the altar, spoons in hand, ready to partake.

The first table—washed coffees—was a revelation of elegance and restraint. Clean, articulate cups, each presenting itself with the polite precision of a well-trained orchestra. Notes of jasmine, white peach, and delicate citrus whispered from the bowls. But then, as we turned to the second table, where the naturals resided, the experience shifted. This was not a recital. This was something raw, primal, an untamed rhapsody of fruit and fermentation.

And then, there was the one.

At first, we knew only its effect—an immediate sweetness, as if the very air had been imbued with lychee aroma. It unfurled with tropical bravado, a flirtation of florals, an undertow of complexity that danced with sweet citrus as it cooled, culminating in an aftertaste so prolonged and refined it felt like the epilogue to a great novel—one you refuse to close even after the final page.

For a few moments, neither Wafi nor I spoke. We merely stared at each other, each hoping the other would confirm that what we had just tasted was, in fact, real.

And then, we turned the cards.

There it was: a Gesha from Mima Estate, Ale Lot 110125 Natural River Flow. A process so inventive it sounded like poetry—coffees sealed in bags, left to ferment in a pool along the cold river, nature dictating the tempo of transformation. The moment felt less like a decision and more like destiny. We did not hesitate. We bought it immediately.

To say that Altieri changed my perception of coffee would be an understatement. It was not just about flavor, nor about terroir, nor even about process. It was about intention. About people who have dedicated themselves, not to an industry, but to an ideal—one in which coffee is not simply consumed but revered.

— Ahmad Al Kaitoob