This morning’s cup of coffee wasn’t my usual brew. It came from a very special place and my ritual for brewing it was different, too.
After grinding the beans, I cupped my hands around the bowl of the grinder and shook the grounds lightly. I put my nose between my hands and inhaled the rich aroma, gathering in all the complexity of the beans. I poured the steaming coffee from my mocha pot to my mug and went out to my rocking chair on the front porch where I noisily slurped a bit of the nectar in a way guaranteed to draw disapproving glares had I been in a restaurant. I held it in my mouth for a few seconds and then spit it out into the flower bed. There was nothing wrong with the coffee, but I’d learned to do that recently at a coffee “cupping” at Finca Lérida in Alto Quiel, Chiriquí Province, Panama. As I savored the wonderful variety of flavors that toyed with my taste buds and palate I was instantly transported, as if on a magic carpet, back to that extraordinary place high in the mountains.
There aren’t enough adjectives to describe the beauty of this Shangri La. To say it is “breathtaking” is like saying the Mona Lisa is a “pretty good” painting. Calling it “awe inspiring” is akin to calling the Grand Canyon, in Arizona, a “pretty deep ditch” as you stand on its rim. Two-dimensional photographs and videos simply are inadequate to convey the magnificence of it all. The majesty of the surrounding mountains, the rugged hills covered with coffee plants offer the world some of the best, and, not coincidentally, most expensive coffees in the world, and sometimes being enveloped by clouds…
Sitting at 5,602 feet above the Pacific Ocean, Finca Lérida is, first and foremost, a working coffee plantation with a boutique hotel and gourmet restaurant. It is not a hotel that happens to have a few coffee trees scattered around for the guest’s amusement. The finca covers 150 hectares (370 acres) of which 43 hectares (106 acres) are devoted to coffee production. Finca Lérida borders Amistad National Park, the largest nature reserve in Central America, with nearly one million acres of tropical forest jointly administered by Panama and Costa Rica, which gives the visitor the sense of the immensity of undefiled nature.
A boutique hotel is defined as being a smaller hotel that is not part of a huge chain, but is top quality, has individually styled rooms offering customized service. This “customized” service is evident in the personalized, handwritten greeting left at bedside from the general manager of the hotel, Jessica Real:
The hotel is small having only 11 deluxe rooms like the one I stayed in:
There are four “standard” rooms that would qualify as being “luxurious” by most anyone’s standards:
There are six suites that feature a fireplace and a Jacuzzi:
And the Historic Suite (Casa Centenario) built by the original owner, Tolef Monniche back in 1929:
This was the home Tolef Monniche, a Norwegian engineer who worked building the locks on the Panama Canal. After suffering four bouts of malaria he set off to find his own piece of heaven high in the mountains. He built the lodge with his own two hands. It has a cozy living room with a fireplace, dining room, family room, library, and a second floor with an unsurpassed view of the carefully landscaped grounds meticulously maintained by four gardeners.
Every room has a 42-inch LCD TV with satellite cables (but I can’t imagine why you’d want to veg-out in front of a television here), Wi-Fi Internet connection and phone service. All rooms and suites are 100% non-smoking.
Just as neat and tidy as the grounds are, the rooms are also spotless and well-cared for. A Marine drill instructor giving the place a white-glove inspection would be hard-pressed to find a speck of dust anywhere.
What would a luxurious hotel be without a fine, gourmet restaurant? The one at Finca Lérida is presided over by Chef Gean:
(Photo courtesy of Omar Upegui R.)
Don’t let the serious pose fool you. Gean was nothing but smiles and good humor when I talked with him.
The dining room is light and airy and offers spectacular views of the grounds and the mountains in which it nestles.
(Photo courtesy of Omar Upegui R.)
Or you can dine al fresco:
I started my dinner, the evening I spent at the hotel, with a delicious roasted tomato soup topped by a healthy serving of fromage aux chevre (that’s a fancy way of saying “goat cheese” which happens to be one of my favorites and was what tempted me to order it).
The cheese was a fine complement to the dish and the garnish was picked fresh from the garden just outside.
For the main course I chose the trout topped with onions, tomatoes and candied cashews:
My dad was a chef. My first French girlfriend was the chef on a 180-foot mega yacht, and when I was captain of the Lady Ann in New Orleans the renowned Cajun chef Paul Prudhomme used to charter us several times a year for dinner parties he’d have for his friends, so I know good food. What I ate at Finca Lérida was as good as any I’ve had anywhere. And they stock a good selection of imported wines to go with your meal.
One thing you won’t find anywhere at the finca are machines dispensing carbonated soft drinks or packages of “munchies” made from chemicals you can’t pronounce. Instead there is a small coffee shop adjacent to the reception area
(Photo courtesy of Omar Upegui R.)
(Photo courtesy of Omar Upegui R.)
Here you can savor some of the finca’s coffees and fresh “dulces” (sweet pasteries). The coffee is also packaged either as whole beans or ground for you to take home so you can, as I was, taken back to this magical place when you brew a cup.
I’ll leave you, today, with this short video. Listen carefully to what Eden must have sounded like…
In an future post I’ll fill you in on the activities available at the finca either as a guest staying at the hotel or for those who might simply want a “day trip.”
After I graduated from Michigan State, in 1966, two of my buddies and I were all on our mutual death watch for the Vietnam War draft. We had sung and played our way through college both as a trio and as singles in the folk music era.
We had decided that married you can always get and jobs you can always get, but young and single you can’t always get.
Therefore, since we couldn’t possibly plan our future lives with the pit and the pendulum of the draft hanging over our heads, we decided to go to Europe and sing for the USO. Not draft dodging – simply treading water and exploring new and different places while awaiting the inevitable.
The inevitable happened in a month or so for both my friends – I, for reasons I don’t understand and probably never will – spent two years waiting in Europe to be drafted and it never happened. When my both my friends got drafted, I got booted because the USO didn’t want another single act.
Therefore, I sang and played virtually any place in several countries there was a flat spot I could do so. I was hungry. My favorite gig was a month in Amsterdam, singing in a brothel. Sometimes I sang in the display window on the street along with the girls on display – sometimes inside in the bar. The fringe bennies weren’t bad!
What’s the point? Richard, I too, have sung for my supper. And, it wasn’t so bad – it kept me in smokes too.
Dead giveaway was both you and Omar singing in the choir at the same time.
More power to you! I await your next adventure with great interest.
I am one of the very lucky ones of our generation. I didn’t have to worry about ‘Nam at all. I was in and out of the Navy before any of that came around, and with “Not Recommended For Re-enlistment” stamped on the cover of my service record, the VC would have had to be swimming under the Golden Gate Bridge with satchel charges on their backs before I’d have been called up. (Despite what’s on the service record I received an Honorable Discharge, for what it’s worth.)
Dreams deferred are dreams denied.
I can’t do, now, what I did before. Physically I’m just not able. Half a century of inhaling licit and illicit substances have left me short of breath. I take pills in the morning and early evening to keep the ticker tocking.
It’s strange that I should get this comment today. Just before I woke up I had a dream and someone in it said, “I wish I’d bought that sailboat…”
I’ve posted these before, but they’re worth repeating. There are two quotes from books that actually changed my entire life. They are:
“‘I’ve always wanted to sail to the South Seas, but I can’t afford it.’ What these men can’t afford is not to go. They are enmeshed in the cancerous discipline of ‘security.’ And in the worship of security we fling our lives beneath the wheels of routine–and before we know it our lives are gone.
“What does a man need–really need? A few pounds of food each day, heat and shelter, six feet to lie down in–and some form of working activity that will yield a sense of accomplishment. That’s all–in the material sense. And we know it. But we are brainwashed by our economic system until we end up in a tomb beneath a pyramid of time payments, mortgages, preposterous gadgetry, playthings that divert our attention from the sheer idiocy of the charade.
“The years thunder by. The dreams of youth grow dim where they lie caked in dust on the shelves of patience. Before we know it the tomb is sealed.” – Sterling Hayden, Wanderer.
“And the bright horizon calls! Many a thing will keep till the world’s work is done, and youth is only a memory. When the old enchanter came to my door laden with dreams, I reached out with both hands. For I knew that he would not be lured with the gold that I might later offer, when age had come upon me.” – Richard MacCullough, Viking’s Wake