Before thereâs a latte. Before a barista pulls a single shot. Before it hits our grinders in El Paso. Thereâs a farm, a slope, and someoneâs morning spent in the company of plants.
Puerto Rican coffee is grown primarily in the central mountainous region of the island, where altitude, volcanic soil, and steady rainfall form the perfect growing conditions for Arabica beans. But conditions alone donât make great coffee. People do.
On those farms, the harvest is often done by hand. That means workers walking the rows, inspecting each cherry, only picking those that are perfectly ripe. Itâs slower. Itâs harder. But itâs better. Itâs how the depth of flavor startsâthrough care and patience long before roasting even begins.
These farms are often family-run. Passed down. Protected. The land holds memory, and each cup carries part of it.
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Letâs zoom inânot just on a farm, but on a person.
Imagine waking at sunrise to beat the midday heat. Boots in red dirt. Fingers that can tell ripeness by feel. Coffee farmers in Puerto Rico often begin their days with their own brewâstrong, black, sometimes sweetened with panela (raw cane sugar).
Then comes the harvest.
Itâs rhythmic. Cherry by cherry. Basket by basket.
Thereâs pride in that work. Not just because it supports a livelihood, but because it supports a legacy. Generations have grown up among these plantsâlearning when to prune, how to dry, what the leaves say when itâs time to irrigate.
Theyâre stewards, not just laborers. And they arenât working for speedâtheyâre working for soul.
Once the cherries are picked, the journey isnât over. Theyâre pulped, washed, fermented, and dried. In many cases, theyâre sun-driedâspread out on patios or raised beds, turned carefully, protected from mold and sudden rain.
Each step can go rightâor wrong. And the people managing these steps donât rely on tech alone. They rely on instinct, memory, and a deep understanding of what the beans need.
Even the roasting, often done at small facilities near the farms or exported in raw form to trusted roasters, is handled like an art. Itâs not just heatâitâs storytelling. Because every roast reveals something about the bean: where it came from, how it was treated, and what it has to say.
By the time the coffee gets to The Coffee Spot, itâs already passed through dozens of hands. What we do hereâgrinding, brewing, pouringâitâs important. But itâs not the beginning.
Thatâs why we talk about origin. Thatâs why we care about where our beans come from. Because we know that when we make your drink, weâre carrying someone elseâs care forward. Weâre putting their work into your day. And we take that seriously.
Every espresso we pull, every cold brew we steep, starts with their effort. Their mornings. Their soil. Their sweat.
In a world where coffee can feel fast and anonymous, we choose the opposite. We choose to know. To ask. To respect.
Because coffee isnât just a commodityâitâs community.
And the people growing those beans? Theyâre not invisible. Theyâre not a footnote.
Theyâre part of the story. A part we honor with every order, every brew, every cup handed across the counter.
Next time you visit The Coffee Spot, and the aroma hits you just right, take a moment. Think of the hands that held those beans first. The farmers. The pickers. The roasters. The people who spent their days making sure your coffee didnât just taste goodâbut meant something.
Because when we say âevery cup tells a story,â we mean it. And it starts far away. On a mountain. In the sun. With someone who cares.
The Coffee Spot | Solana Mall | Coffee with Character, Community, and Care
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