Description
What 100 Grams Buys You
A hundred grams is about seven cups at a proper 15-gram dose. Seven.
We could sell you a kilo. We do sell kilos. But a kilo of Kopi Luwak sitting in a cupboard slowly loses the thing you paid for, and most people who buy one end up drinking the last third out of obligation rather than pleasure.
A hundred grams is a different proposition. It is enough to learn the coffee — to get the grind wrong once, adjust, and then hit it four or five times in a row. It is enough to serve it to three people who will remember it. It is not enough to become casual about.
Wild civets in Central Aceh select their own cherries from trees growing between 1,200 and 1,700 metres. Nobody schedules that. Nobody scales it. The yield is what the forest gives in a season, which is why this arrives in a pouch and not a sack.
The Cup
Kopi Luwak has a reputation for tasting like chocolate and caramel, and a lot of it does. Ours does not lead there.
- Aroma opens fresh and nutty, closer to raw almond than roasted hazelnut.
- First sip is apricot and blueberry — genuinely fruit-forward, which surprises people who expect something heavy.
- Mid-palate turns to candied ginger and dark chocolate. This is where the body arrives: medium to full, syrupy, coating.
- Finish is long and unusual — sandalwood with a savoury, mushroom-like edge that keeps the sweetness from turning cloying.
Acidity is present and clean rather than sharp. That comes from the processing: these beans are wet-processed, not semi-washed like most Indonesian lots.
Wet processing strips the mucilage before drying, which costs yield and takes more water, but produces a cup with far less of the muddy, earthy weight that Sumatran coffee is usually known for. If you have tried Kopi Luwak before and found it flat, this is the different variable.
Specialty graded, cupped at 84+. Screen size 15–19, moisture under 13%, defect triage 3–6%.
Where It Actually Comes From
Not “Indonesia”. Central Aceh, on Sumatra — specifically the harvest areas around Takengon, Bener Meriah, Angkup, Sukarame, Bies and Pondok Baru.
Volcanic soil, sitting just north of the equator, 1,200–1,700 metres up. Cherries take nine months from flower to ripe. They are hand-picked, and the beans that go into this pouch were selected first by civets that live free in that forest — not caged, not force-fed a coffee-only diet.
That distinction matters for the cup, not just for ethics. A civet on a natural diet of fruit, insects, and cherries has a working digestive enzyme system. A caged civet fed nothing but coffee does not, and the beans show it.
Who Buys the 100 g
- The first-timer. You have read about this coffee for years and are not ready to commit to a kilogram of something you might not like.
- The gift-giver. It survives the test that most gifts fail: the recipient remembers who gave it to them, because they tell the story every time they serve it.
- The host. One pouch is three or four occasions where the coffee itself is the event.
- The comparer. You already drink Gesha and Blue Mountain and want to know honestly where this sits.
- Hotels, villas and private clubs running a small tasting programme rather than a full menu listing. For anything above single pouches, contact us for volume pricing.
