The People Make the Place: Redefining what it means to be an Indian coffee producer

"Just think about what was going on in Europe when this temple was built," Dinesh Pejathaya's voice echoed softly through the Chennakeshava Temple, a thousand-year-old marvel in Belur, Karnataka. The intricate carvings, weathered yet still astonishingly detailed, spoke of a civilization that thrived long before much of Europe had emerged from the Middle Ages. As we stood amidst the stone sculptures, I couldn't help but feel a deep reverence for the ancient artistry and ingenuity that had shaped what was now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Chennakeshava Temple, by David Shaub Stallings

Dinesh's comment wasn't meant to lambast European culture during that era, but rather to highlight the profound achievements of his own culture. Like many I've met in the Indian coffee community, Dinesh is deeply proud of India's rich cultural history. His pride, however, is not without a sense of realism. For Dinesh, India is far from being beyond reproach, yet its cultural legacy is undeniably advanced.

As our eyes drank in the stunning details of the temple, Dinesh began explaining elements of its design, pointing out features that had practical as well as spiritual significance. What stood out to me the most was the hollow stone floor in the center of the temple interior. With the gleam of a scholar in his eye, Dinesh asked, "Why do you think this section of floor is hollow, David?"

Before I could answer, his daughter Karishma, then 18, delicately stepped over to the area in question and began to slap her feet against it with the skill of someone who had done so many times and the grace of someone who had been taught how to do it just right. The sound resonated wonderfully through the temple, and as if it were telling me the answer. I immediately knew why. "For Bharatanatyam," I said, in wonder. Dinesh smiled, and with a playful smirk, he mock-scolded his daughter for disturbing the temple's peace, though his pride was evident.

Bharatanatyam, the classical dance of South India, is an art form as rich and expressive as the temple itself. Unlike Western classical ballet, Bharatanatyam emphasizes the eyes and hands, with movements that are both powerful and precise. Watching Karishma, I imagined the temple as it might have been centuries ago—a vibrant community space.

As I stood there, lost in thought, I was struck by how advanced this culture was. Many critical advancements in algebra, geometry, and the decimal system were being developed in this very region around the time the temple was built. The culinary traditions that had evolved by then were as complex as any that would emerge anywhere in the world. Dinesh was right; comparing much of the rest of the world to this place during that time would be unfair. India's culture, I realized once again, is truly extraordinary.

Like Dinesh's handling of his birthplace, this sentiment should not and does not put it beyond rebuke. But India's excellence is something that has become fact in my mind. I do, however, also believe that those of us outside of India, and in particular, those of us who are largely the historical beneficiaries of western colonialism, need to be mindful of how we talk about and approach this amazing place. It is all too easy to exoticize or overly glorify cultures we don't fully understand. India is indeed spectacular, but we must be careful not to make it a spectacle.Coveted coffee cultivars, revered for their taste profile and cup score, are notoriously problematic for farmers, susceptible to disease, low-yielding, and/or difficult to propagate. 

Spectacles invite objectification, but relationships invite understanding.

It is with this mindset that I view India's coffee sector. While attempting to avoid the pitfalls of exoticism, I genuinely believe that India's coffee industry holds a unique advantage over much of the coffee-producing world at this very moment. This isn't due to the luck of having an exceptional genetic library of coffee plants or to ideal growing conditions. Many factors, such as moderate to low elevations and a gene pool containing primarily robusta hybrids, might seem like disadvantages, yet I believe India is on the cusp of making a significant impact in the specialty coffee world. This potential is largely due to people. People like Dinesh Pejathaya.

Educated and passionate, Dinesh left a successful career at a major technology company to pursue his passion for coffee. For him, specialty coffee represents far more than just flavor—it's a means to preserve the rich biodiversity of India's southwestern jungles. Through his work with KaadKaapi, a collective whose name means "Forest Coffee" in Kannada, Dinesh and his colleagues are leading a movement to grow coffee in harmony with the native flora and fauna. Their mission is not just about conservation, but about showing that it's possible to farm coffee in an economically viable way without compromising the environment.

This approach requires sacrifices. Dense canopy cover lowers yields, and wildlife like gaur and elephants often damage coffee plants. Yet, the specialty coffee they produce allows them to justify these challenges economically. KaadKaapi's goal is to demonstrate to the coffee-growing communities of Chikmagalur and Coorg that sustainable coffee farming is not only possible but can also be profitable.

Coffee producers, Ajoy and Pranoy Thipaiah, at their farm, Kerehaklu (Karnataka, India). Photo by David Shaub Stallings

Any conversation about Indian specialty coffee and its bright future would be utterly lacking if it did not mention Ratnagiri Estate. Run by Ashok and Divya Patre, Ratnagiri is hands down one of the most impressive operations I have come across anywhere in the coffee producing world.

Ashok Patre, the third generation to steward Ratnagiri Estate, is a visionary dedicated to elevating Indian coffee to new heights. His passion for coffee is evident in his meticulous approach to processing. Mr. Ashok is quick to point out that Indian terroir does not match the conditions of some producing countries like Ethiopia or Colombia. However, this does not discourage him from his belief that India is destined to be viewed as one of the great specialty coffee producing countries. To this end, Mr. Ashok has put a remarkable amount of thought, effort, and resources into researching and developing processing techniques and equipment that are capable of modulating the aromatics and flavors of the final product in a predictable and repeatable fashion. Through careful control of fermentation and precise drying techniques, Mr. Ashok creates coffees that are remarkably clean, complex, and full of character. What's more exciting is that the upcoming harvest (2024/2025) will be the first with which he is using unique processing equipment designed in collaboration with some of India’s top food scientists.

Mr. Ashok at Ratnagiri Estate.

Photo by David Shaub Stallings

If Dinesh Pejathaya, and the producers that make up KaadKaapi, approach specialty coffee as a means to preserve many aspects of the physical space that the farms occupy, and Ratnagiri approaches specialty coffee as a means to advance the perception of Indian coffee on the world stage, Ajoy & Pranoy Thipaiah of Kerehaklu Estate represent a remarkable synergy of these goals, and do so in a way that is wholly unique and truly excellent.

Kerehaklu Estate, nestled in Chikmagalur, is a testament to the harmonious coexistence of tradition and innovation. Run by the Thipaiah family, this 97-hectare farm stands out amidst the monoculture landscapes that often dominate coffee production. The coffee plants here thrive within dense, old-growth jungle, a stark contrast to the clear-cut fields found in much of the coffee producing world. This unique approach to cultivation reflects the Thipaiah family's deep respect for the land and its biodiversity.