Three origins, weighted heaviest to lightest: Brazil, then Colombia, then Ethiopia.

The Brazil is Carnaval, a Yellow Catuai from the Divisa and Sítio Campo farms in Carmo de Minas, Minas Gerais. Grown between 1,000 and 1,300 metres in volcanic soil, patio dried for three days then finished in mechanical dryers. It is the base of the blend and it tastes like it: caramel, marzipan, brownie.

The Colombia is a regional lot from Apía in Risaralda, pulled from smallholder farms across the district and grown between roughly 1,600 and 2,000 metres. Castillo, Supremo and Caturra. It sits in the middle of the blend doing the unglamorous work of holding everything together.

The Ethiopia is Guribea, from Esyas Beriso Arere's farm in Buku Sayisa village, West Guji. Thirty two hectares at 2,350 metres, red clay soil, natural process, slow dried across 150 raised beds for twelve to seventeen days. It is the smallest share of the blend and the loudest. This is where the top end comes from.

Bobby's have locked in access to these coffees for the next two years, which is a boring sentence with an interesting consequence. It means the blend stays the same while their roasting keeps improving. That is the right way round.

This is the one to pay attention to.

Bridazul is a Nicaraguan producer group in Nueva Segovia, working with smallholders out of their base at Finca El Árbol. Cherries get picked at 20 to 22 Brix, hand sorted, then delivered to the mill and mixed into the Bridazul lot.

Then the Supernatural process starts. Whole cherries go onto raised beds and get covered in plastic for three days, which cranks the fermentation and the flavour intensity. After that they are spread thin and dried as a traditional natural under shade for about twenty five more days, which is where the mouthfeel and the sticky sweetness come from. The beans stay inside the dried cherry pod until it is time to mill for export.

That is a lot of patience for one bag of coffee. You can taste it. Apricot jam, raspberry and mandarin, clean and juicy, with a finish that hangs around.

Filter only. Do not put this through an espresso machine and then send us an email about it.

Santa Rosa is a farm in Chalatenango that started life as a pine forest. It was cleared and replanted for Pacamara, a variety with a reputation for perfume and resin, and it is run by Jorge Raul Rivera Jr, a Cup of Excellence champion.

Lot P141 is honey processed. Ripest cherries picked and sorted, floated in water tanks to pull out the underripes and the lighter ones, then partially de-pulped and fermented in tanks for twenty hours. After that it is thirty days drying on raised beds in full shade until it hits moisture.

Honey process on a Pacamara through an espresso machine is a slightly unusual thing to do. It is also very good, and it will not taste like your normal single origin espresso. Expect something denser and more perfumed than you are used to.

If you take milk, this still works. It just has more to say without it.

Same town as the Colombian sitting in the house blend. Apía, in Risaralda, grown by small scale farmers on the mineral rich volcanic soils near the Tatamá and Los Nevados national parks, between 1,700 and 1,900 metres.

Bobby's have taken a coffee they already trust and had the caffeine removed from it, which is a more sensible approach to decaf than most. The decaffeination is the sugarcane process, also known as ethyl acetate. The solvent is derived from fermented sugarcane, and it strips the caffeine while leaving the natural sugars and organic compounds largely intact. That is the difference between a decaf that tastes like coffee and a decaf that tastes like a memory of coffee.

Candied citrus, milk chocolate and caramel. It holds up black and it holds up in milk.