For those of you who love “bean hunting” as much as I do, you may have noticed an interesting shift: many coffees are no longer defined primarily by the name of an estate, but instead by the individual producer behind them. One producer who left a particularly strong impression on me—and remains one of my favorites—is Pepe Jijón from Ecuador. I’ve previously written about his unique Wave Washed Geisha processing method, along with a detailed profile and tasting notes of his coffees.
This shift reveals something deeper within the specialty coffee industry. It marks a transition from emphasizing the “estate” to recognizing the “producer.” In a sense, the pursuit of terroir has evolved into a respect for human value.
Traditionally, a well-known estate signified excellent terroir, mature farming practices, and reliable processing capabilities. It served as a guarantee of quality and consistency—consumers trusted that any coffee from that estate would meet a certain standard. But as specialty coffee has matured, people have begun to realize that even within a single estate, different plots can produce dramatically different flavor profiles. Labeling all of them under one estate name can actually blur their individuality.
What truly determines the quality of coffee is the decisions and craftsmanship of the people involved—the growers, pickers, and processors. The estate is merely the stage; people are the soul.
You can see this clearly in high-end coffee competitions. Award lists now often highlight not just the estate, but also the producer’s name. When a smallholder farmer wins a top prize at the Cup of Excellence, their name becomes synonymous with quality. Emphasizing the producer is also a natural outcome of the specialty coffee industry’s push for traceability. Consumers want to know who grew their coffee. This recognition allows producers to receive the credit—and compensation—they deserve, while also enabling direct trade relationships.
In many cases, the producer’s name has become a more precise indicator of both quality and flavor. That’s why so many coffees today are marketed under the producer’s name rather than the estate.
Today, I want to talk about Peru as a coffee origin.
To be honest, Peru has always carried a bit of a “potential risk” in my mind. It doesn’t shine as brightly as neighboring countries like Brazil or Colombia. But when you come across a truly good Peruvian coffee, you’ll find a beautifully balanced and elegant cup.
Coffee production in Peru is dominated by smallholder farmers, most of whom cultivate less than two hectares of land. Due to economic constraints, many farmers cannot afford chemical fertilizers or pesticides—ironically making Peru a stronghold for organic cultivation. Around 70% of the country’s production is Typica, with smaller amounts of Caturra, Bourbon, Pache, and Geisha. Washed processing is the dominant method, resulting in clean cups with bright acidity.
Overall, Peruvian coffees may not be explosively vibrant at first sip, but the more you taste, the more you realize they have everything they need. There’s an understated elegance—refined acidity paired with a full, satisfying sweetness that reflects the terroir of the Andes. In higher-altitude regions especially, the flavor complexity becomes more pronounced, often revealing floral notes, tropical fruits, and melon-like sweetness. For many coffee enthusiasts, Peru is a hidden treasure waiting to be discovered.
Today’s coffee comes from Assembly Coffee in London, featuring beans produced by Fidel Huancas from Peru. Through this coffee, I’d like to share both his story and the flavor profile it delivers.
Fidel Huancas is a third-generation coffee producer from the Chirinos district in Cajamarca, Peru. He manages a 1.5-hectare farm called La Esperanza—“Hope”—a name that reflects his aspiration to produce exceptional coffee and become one of the region’s top producers. The coffee I’m discussing today comes from this very farm.
After graduating from high school in 2004, Fidel began his journey as a coffee producer, inheriting land from his father. By the age of 21, he had started his own family and, through hard work, purchased an additional two hectares of land. In 2017, he traveled to Costa Rica for an internship, where he learned new agricultural techniques that he later implemented on his farm with great success.
His dedication, passion, and attention to detail have driven significant progress in his coffee production. Like many farmers in the region, he represents a new generation of producers elevating coffee quality—supported by progressive cooperatives and local export organizations.
I noticed that his newer farm, Aroma del Corazón (purchased in 2022), ranked 21st in the 2024 Cup of Excellence Peru competition. Located at 1,900 meters above sea level, it shares a similar high-altitude environment with his original La Esperanza farm at around 1,950 meters. Clearly, his coffees are rooted in high-elevation terroir.
Over the past two decades, Fidel has relentlessly pursued quality, earning recognition along the way. Coffee has allowed him to provide a better life for his family, including funding the education of his three children. He is personally involved in every step of production—from hand-picking ripe cherries to overseeing processing at his farm’s washing station.
His process begins with careful hand selection, followed by flotation to remove defective cherries and debris. The beans are then fermented in small tanks, thoroughly washed to remove mucilage, and dried under controlled conditions. This meticulous washed process results in a clean, crisp, and juicy flavor profile.
The coffee I tasted is a blend of Caturra and Pache—two varieties commonly grown in Peru. Both are Arabica cultivars originating from Central and South America. Caturra, a natural mutation of Bourbon, is known for its high yield and adaptability, while Pache, a mutation of Typica, is prized for its exceptional flavor potential.
Together, they create a cup with bright acidity—often reminiscent of citrus and lemon—balanced by notes of nuts and chocolate. The overall profile is elegant and complex, with a rich mouthfeel. Caturra brings liveliness and structure, while Pache contributes a more subtle, refined sweetness. If Caturra is the expressive performer, Pache is the quiet master—less productive, but deeply captivating for those who appreciate its nuance.
As for the roaster, Assembly Coffee was born from the idea of “collective intelligence.” Back in 2014, a small team from Volcano Coffee Works gathered leading independent café and restaurant owners across the UK to explore a key question: how can a roaster best serve its role within the specialty coffee value chain?
After six months of in-depth discussions, they developed a blueprint for a customer-focused, innovative, and flexible roasting company—thus, Assembly was born.
Assembly Coffee represents the cutting edge of London’s specialty coffee scene. One line from their website stood out to me:
“The roastery would only source coffees that met the needs of its customers and never for its own gratification.”
Their roasting style reflects this philosophy. They favor light to medium roasts, aiming to precisely highlight origin characteristics, processing nuances, elegant acidity, and natural sweetness—rather than creating flavor through roast level.
If you ever visit London, I highly recommend stopping by their Brixton headquarters, housed in a converted 19th-century fire station. You’ll also find their beans served in many of the city’s top cafés.
As for the cup itself—
The dry aroma immediately reminded me of dried apricot, accompanied by subtle white floral notes. The overall fragrance is balanced, gently sweet, and very comforting.
After brewing, the flavor opens up into notes of stewed fruit, warm baking spices, and the juicy sweetness of blood orange. The wet aroma especially evokes something like a “fruit soup”—that slightly cooked, lightly oxidized fruit character. The profile leans bright yet structured, with a juicy texture and layered fruit aromatics.
To be honest, finding a Peruvian coffee at this level of flavor is already something special.
As I sat at home in Hangzhou, sipping this coffee roasted in London and grown by Fidel Huancas in Peru, I couldn’t help but feel that this kind of “global movement” is one of coffee’s most romantic expressions.
Coffee producers embody both human skill and spirit. They represent real individuals, families, and the result of hard work and accumulated wisdom. In today’s era of smallholder farming and refined processing, they have become the true core of both quality and storytelling.
When a coffee is named after its producer, it sends a clear message: this is not just a product of a place—it is the work of a real person, someone who has poured their life into it.
And that is something worth respecting—and appreciating.