The Road to Aquiares:
The Roots of Our Roasts in Costa Rica

Published July 3, 2023

This summer, I traveled to Costa Rica to spend a week at Aquiares Estate in Turrialba.

Long-time members will recognize the name. Summer 2023 marks the third consecutive year we've carried Aquiares' coffees, working with Ally Coffee Importers to bring the Centroamericano Anaerobic Natural and the Esperanza Red Honey to our menu each year.

In June I spent several days on the farm with manager Diego Robelo. The trip was both a sourcing visit and a chance to understand the culture, the work, and the traditions behind every cup we roast at Loom Coffee. What follows is the road that led there.

The Road to Aquiares

Driving toward Turrialba, the landscape opens up.

Mountain peaks sit behind low clouds. Pastureland, forest, and coffee plots stretch across the valley. Costa Ricans call this country the rich coast, and the drive into Turrialba makes the name feel literal.

The town of Aquiares sits at 1,100 to 1,400 meters on the slopes of the Turrialba volcano. The streets are narrow and active. Houses are painted in pastels. Coffee runs through everyday conversation, because over 1,800 people live in this community and the farm's rhythm sets the calendar.

The estate is also a community. The respect between workers and farm management is easy to read once you've spent a day on the ground, and it tracks with the social investment Alfonso Robelo started in the early 1990s. (More on him below.)

Aquiares resident, Jorge Núñez Jara pours coffee from the Vandola at Hacienda Esperanza.

Jorge and Katheryn run hospitality at Hacienda Esperanza. They greeted us with coffee made on a Vandola, the ceramic pour-over device that's standard in Costa Rican homes. After Jorge walked me through the brew, we sat on the patio with the coffee and a loaf of his banana bread, looking out over the fields, the mill, and the small Catholic church at the center of town.

Later, Wilman, who runs Aquiares' agritourism program, gave me the operational tour. He talked through their pruning cycle and their integrated pest management. I come from a horticulture and agriculture background, so this was familiar ground.

Wilman elaborated on several new projects at Aquiares, including cacao production and an initiative spearheaded by the women of Aquiares to begin producing essential oils.

Specialty microlots at Aquiares Estate are carefully monitored while drying in the greenhouses.

Aquiares' farm manager is Diego Robelo, a third-generation coffee producer who runs the day-to-day operation. Diego is direct about the work. He'll spend an hour with you on rootstock selection or on the specifics of a fermentation profile, and he treats the farm as a 100-year project and runs it on that timeline.

Diego is the son of Alfonso Robelo, who took over farm management at Aquiares in the early 1990s. A political refugee from Nicaragua, Alfonso ran a campaign through the decade to expand home ownership in the community, to set up equitable labor practices, and to invest in education for farm workers. Today the farm operates with a well-educated community and a deep, skilled workforce. That continuity is the character of Aquiares.

Diego had invited me to a cupping session at the Aquiares quality control lab that afternoon, along with my traveling companions from California and Michaela Tomchek, a traceability specialist from Mercanta Coffee Importers who was visiting the farm. Before the cupping, he had one errand to run. He wanted to show us the Catarata de Aquiares, a 132-foot waterfall about an hour's hike from the Hacienda.

The trail winds through coffee plots and forest, descending toward the river. The sound of the falls picks up first; then the canopy opens and the waterfall is right in front of you.

We climbed onto the mossy rocks at the edge of the pool. Diego went straight into the water, swam under the falls, and let the column of water pull him beneath the surface. He came up grinning.

The scene reminded me of playing in the creeks and forests of rural North Carolina as a kid. There's something about going back to running water that resets the rest of the day.

Back at the Hacienda, we rested briefly and then headed to the lab. The mill had another detour waiting. A new Probat sample roaster had just arrived. Diego and Armando, the mill manager, were already uncrating the double-barrel machine, blue steel and brass, before we caught up with them.

Michaela and I helped set the cupping table, weighing out doses of twelve Aquiares lots. Armando worked his way around with hot water and set a four-minute timer. This was a blind cupping, so we didn't know the variety or process behind each bowl going in.

Several of the coffees were impressive, but two of them landed clearly above the rest on flavor, complexity, sweetness, and overall structure. After we compared notes, Diego told us they were the same variety: Mariana. Mariana is relatively new at Aquiares. It's an F1 hybrid developed for Central American growing conditions, selected for rust resistance, vigorous growth, and cup quality.

On the cupping table, the honey-processed Mariana leaned toward dark fruit and molasses. The team picked up plum, cherry, and guava, with brown-sugar sweetness underneath. The natural carried a similar weight with brighter tropical sweetness on top: melon, cantaloupe, papaya, and caramel. Across both lots, the acid and the sweetness moved together. The mouthfeel was juicy and clean, finishing crisp.

After the cupping, I talked with Diego about bringing a small lot of the Mariana to our menu, and I left with as much of the Mariana Natural as would fit in my carry-on. It's the latest piece of Aquiares' work to show up on our shelves.

The week at Aquiares confirmed what we've always tried to communicate in our copy: the story behind a coffee is part of the coffee. Where it grew, who grew it, and how, all shape what you taste.

If you've been with us a while, you'll recognize two other Aquiares lots: the Centroamericano Anaerobic Natural and the Esperanza Red Honey. The new crop has landed in the US through Ally Coffee, who buys reliably from producers like Diego, year after year, and who helps us keep distinctive, traceable lots on the menu.

When you brew one of these, you're tasting Turrialba: the volcanic soil, the rain off the Caribbean, and the work of a farm that has spent more than thirty years investing in the people who do it.