When we started selecting the first coffees for Rooted Roast, we imagined it would be one of the more romantic parts of the whole process. Reality turned out to be slightly different.
When we started selecting the first coffees for Rooted Roast, we imagined it would be one of the more romantic parts of the whole process.
We pictured: mountains, cupping sessions, notes about chocolate and fruit, and the two of us confidently nodding over a cup like real professionals.
Reality turned out to be slightly different.
First, we contacted several coffee importers across Europe. In the end, we chose one mainly because of one simple thing: communication.
Because when you start building something from scratch in a small Norwegian mountain village, you quickly realize that normal human communication is worth much more than an overly fancy presentation.
The importer was great. Helpful. Fast. And within a few days, he sent us around 12 coffee samples.
Well… he was supposed to.
The first shipment disappeared somewhere between Europe and the Norwegian mountains.
For several days we kept checking the tracking app until suddenly a message appeared saying the package had been collected in the town of Gol.
To this day, we have no idea by whom.
Maybe another roaster. Maybe a tired delivery driver. Maybe someone who simply wanted to make themselves a really good espresso on a Monday morning.
Either way, our samples were gone.
But the importer did not hesitate for a second and immediately sent a new package the next day.
Thankfully, that one arrived safely.
And that was the moment the phase began where we drank so much coffee over the following weeks that I occasionally stopped knowing: what time it was, what day it was, and whether I would ever want to drink coffee again for the rest of my life.
"This one tastes too fruity." "This one tastes like a forest." "This one is amazing." "Ten minutes later: actually, it's not."
And somewhere between the sixth and seventh cupping session, we realized something important.
We did not want to choose coffees only based on whatever happened to be the trendiest at the moment.
We wanted coffees that fit life here. Cold mornings. Mountains. Silence. Slow days in Dagali.
Coffees people would want to come back to.
And then came the final plot twist.
About two weeks after the replacement shipment arrived, the original lost box suddenly showed up as well.
Just like that.
No explanation. No apology. It simply reappeared.
Magic.
And maybe that is Norway in a nutshell.
You never completely know what is going on. But somehow, things usually work out in the end.
— Nicole, Milan & Max Dagali, Norway
