Our Coffee Language: Speaking to the Heart of the Cup.

After decades in coffee, cupping thousands of samples, traveling the globe, and working with passionate coffee enthusiasts eager to grow their businesses, I’ve come to a quiet realization:

The most powerful thing about coffee isn’t its complexity. It’s coffee’s magnetism for conversation.

Yet the language we’ve long used to describe coffee (roast temperature and color) often gets in the way. It’s become the default framework for guiding ambitious drinkers toward their perfect cup, but in my experience, it’s deeply flawed. It reduces coffee to a temperature and a color, ignoring the complex variances that can occur from one coffee to another even within the same roast profile. 

More importantly, it disrupts the experience. And when the experience is muddled, the conversation suffers.

For years, we’ve tried to communicate coffee’s character through roast levels: light, medium, dark. But this language is fundamentally flawed. It offers a general sense of how far the beans were roasted, but that’s a far cry from an accurate way to assess coffee’s flavor, texture, or aroma.

Take light roasts, for example. They’re often described as crisp, bright, fruity, and floral, like a classic washed Ethiopia. But a light roast can also be deep-bodied, chocolatey, and nutty with a buttery finish, like a traditional Kona Typica. These two flavor profiles are diametrically opposed, yet they’re both labeled “light roast.” The term tells you almost nothing about what’s actually in the cup.

Coffee drinkers are left to experiment blindly, much like picking from a box of chocolates. You know it’s chocolate, but what’s inside is a crapshoot. Sometimes you’re hoping for a silky mousse and end up with orange jelly. That kind of surprise might be charming in confectionery, but in coffee, it can be frustrating, especially when you’re chasing a specific experience.

The same confusion applies to medium roasts. Most people associate them with deep-bodied character, roasted nuts, and caramel-like sweetness. But roast a dense Costa Rican coffee to a medium level, and you might get chocolate notes alongside a tart lemon bomb. That’s fantastic, if you’re expecting it. But if you’re not in the mood for brightness, it’s a jarring mismatch.

So I began asking a different question: What’s the true driver behind the flavor and texture of coffee? From that, a new framework emerged, one that speaks to both professionals and everyday drinkers:

Fruit Driven

These coffees are bright, tart, floral, and acidic. Think citrus, berries, stone fruit. They’re lively and expressive.

Body Driven

Rich, smooth, chocolatey, nutty. These coffees are comforting and full-bodied, often with low acidity and a velvety mouthfeel.

Balance Driven

Rounded, sweet, and delicately bright. These coffees don’t shout: they sing in harmony. They’re nuanced and approachable.

Roast Driven

Bold, spicy, heavy. These coffees wear their roast proudly, often with dark chocolate or a molasses-like sweetness and a malty, weighty finish.

This language isn’t technical, it’s intuitive. It gives people a way to describe what they love, even if they don’t know the terminology. It opens doors.

I’ve used this model in cuppings, training, and consultations with coffee enthusiasts across Europe, Asia, and the Americas. And time and again, I’ve seen how naturally it resonates. It transcends cultural boundaries. It invites curiosity. It empowers people to articulate what they’re tasting, often for the first time.

There’s a moment I’ve come to recognize: when someone lights up because they finally have words for what’s been lingering on their palate. It’s not just about flavor, it’s about validation. About connection. I’ve watched baristas guide customers to coffees they genuinely enjoy, not just what’s trending or what’s been roasted to fit a category.

This isn’t about dumbing coffee down. It’s about making it more human.

When we shift the language from roast levels to sensory experience from technical shorthand to emotional resonance, we unlock something deeper. We create space for conviviality in coffee.

Coffee isn’t just a beverage. It’s a bridge.