The story of a good coffee doesn’t start in the roaster’s drum or the barista’s hands. It begins long before that—on a faraway hillside farm, where the morning mist still hangs low and someone is reaching for a ripe, red cherry.

There's a moment that happens sometimes when we visit our producer partners in Rwanda. We'll be walking through Nyamurinda's coffee plots with Immaculée, and she'll stop to point out a particular section—"This lot here," she might say, "is the one we sent you last season." In that moment, coffee isn't just a commodity; it's a conversation between people who remember each other.

The morning air in Rwanda's Southern Province carries a particular sweetness. Standing on the slopes of Nyamurinda at dawn, watching mist curl between rows of coffee trees, you understand immediately: this isn't just another origin.