About a year ago, in a little house clinging to a cliffside in the foggy, fecund Blue Mountains of Jamaica, I had the best cup of coffee of my life: a dark roast that tasted as winey and sweet as peak-season blackberries. My soft-spoken host, Dorothy Twyman of Old Tavern Coffee Estate, gestured beyond her window to plush, berry-filled bushes thriving amid rain forest greenery. She explained that, yes, the chilly mist at that altitude slows ripening, allowing sweetness to develop, and hand-picking means that only the right beans are chosen. But those elements make all Blue Mountain coffee good. The difference is that the Twyman family also farms naturally, then ferments, handwashes, and sun-dries their beans to retain their fullest flavor. Most important, they roast the beans themselves, resulting in an incomparable cup._ — Betsy Andrews_