Can’t Taste the Coffee Flavours? So What?

Then again, coffee can occasionally leave you questioning your own senses: how am I supposed to taste the flavour notes printed on the packaging? Gazing at the riotously colourful flavour wheel on a café wall only reinforces the suspicion that my palate is entirely untrained.

As a somewhat amateur coffee enthusiast undertaking further studies at the University of Gastronomic Sciences in Italy, I have encountered every one of these delights and frustrations.

I. The “Science” of the Flavour Wheel

I’m not denying that the SCA flavour wheel has a rigorous, scientific basis. It was compiled by sensory analysts across America and Europe after sampling hundreds of coffees over the course of a year.But most of the reference foods featured on the SCA flavour wheel are staples only in Europe and North America, lacking any universal appeal.

“Maple syrup, raspberry, blueberry…” As my European and American peers effortlessly rattled off a wide array of flavours, I felt distinctly out of my depth. I simply couldn’t follow the wheel’s “guidance” to articulate my own tasting notes with the same clarity, particularly when the references involved foods I hardly ever eat.

On top of that, the SCA aims to train tasters to use precise, technical vocabulary when describing coffee flavours.It’s less about recognising the actual foods listed on the SCA flavour wheel, and more about recognising the identifiable, reproducible “standard aromas” it points to.

Take “blueberry” as an example. What does it actually taste like? The SCA flavour dictionary describes it as: “The taste of low-sugar canned blueberries from Oregon, USA.” Here’s the absurdity: when I asked a few of my American classmates who don’t live in Oregon, none of them had ever tasted the thing, let alone seen it on supermarket shelves.

If American students struggle this much, how do tasters from other countries even identify a “standard blueberry flavour”? On the Chinese podcast *Coffee Plus*, Gu, a head sensory judge at the World Coffee Roasting Championship, shared her method: place dried blueberries in water, microwave them for two minutes, and the resulting aroma is the benchmark.

It reminds me of a honey tasting session where I completely failed to pick up the “intense lychee aroma” described for a particular batch. Only after a few hints from my European and American classmates did I really take my time with it. The verdict? It tasted exactly like canned lychees.

Having spent most of my life in Lingnan, I scarcely remember ever tasting a canned lychee. How could I possibly explain that famous Chinese saying to my classmates? “Within a day, its colour fades; by the second, its aroma shifts; by the third, its taste turns; and after four or five days, all colour, scent, and flavour are lost.”

“Trying to train my palate with this flavour wheel is about as hard as learning a whole new language!” I complained to the instructor.

Although the SCA flavour wheel may present itself as a reliable scientific method for coffee professionals and enthusiasts, taste preference is ultimately subjective. Nevertheless, once a particular taste is officially labelled a “negative flavour,” coffee tasting ceases to be a mere matter of personal preference.

Mainstream coffee sensory trainers and cuppers often describe citrus acidity as a “flavour widely enjoyed by many,” while dismissing woody notes as “unwelcome.”

My Indian classmate Prannavi found this baffling: why are “woody” and “earthy” classed as negative flavours on the SCA wheel? In India, many people actively appreciate such profiles.

Nashira, my Indonesian classmate, also voiced her dismay: “Because most Indonesian coffee undergoes wet-hulling, it typically carries herbal and earthy characteristics. But I don’t see that as a flaw; it’s incredibly complex. The blend of earth, spice, and wood recalls dark chocolate. I find it quite striking and engaging.”

Indonesian coffee producer and partner at Covoya Specialty Coffee, Eko Purnomowidi, remarked in an interview: “In Indonesia, many people are accustomed to drinking coffee with earthy and herbal notes. However, Western buyers of green coffee often arrive with the preconceived notion that these flavours are undesirable. This has left them puzzled and placed considerable pressure on the local industry.”

Over the past decade and a half, erratic rainfall driven by climate change has made coffee flowering cycles highly unpredictable. This means cherries ripen in waves, forcing growers to harvest in multiple passes. Even minor lapses in management can lead to the picking of underripe fruit tainted with a raw, green flavour, which quickly turns off sensory-trained professional buyers.

Conversely, overripe cherries develop a grassy, herbaceous note. If fruit falls to the ground and is left too long, it may ferment and blacken, introducing a muddy, earthy flaw to the final cupping profile.

Yet the standards for specialty coffee are unforgiving. A single fully black cherry in a 300-gram sample is enough to strip the lot of specialty status and send the purchase price plummeting.

Many coffee producers lack the opportunity to acquire sensory expertise or grasp market dynamics in the way green coffee buyers and consumers do, leaving them unable to accurately price their own crops. Instead, they must passively accept the cupping scores and prices dictated by professional buyers. Consequently, it is invariably the professional buyers—those who wield the authority to evaluate coffee—who reap the greater benefits.

Lowering the barriers to coffee tasting in producing countries, rather than prescribing flavour profiles through flavour wheels or other assessment tools, could arguably mark a first step towards treating farmers fairly and authentically, while helping to forge a “common language” for coffee evaluation.

III. Creating a Local Flavour Wheel

In the video *Decolonising Coffee Through Flavour*, SCA-certified coffee consultant Ārāmse asks: could we discuss the placement of certain foods on the flavour wheel more inclusively, and consider adding new flavours?

Take the Indian fruit Jamun (also known as the Indian blackberry), for example. It offers a complex flavour profile: an initial rounded acidity gives way to a burst of rich, syrupy sweetness, but is quickly followed by a dry, astringent finish.

“Like many foods, Jamun delivers a highly complex sensory experience. It’s much like tasting different coffees; if you approach it with strict scientific rigour, you’ll find it difficult to pin down specific descriptors on a standard flavour wheel,” says Ārāmse.

As a result, they are collaborating with SCA-certified coffee trainers to develop a locally adapted flavour wheel for India, grounded in scientific research and flavour analysis.

As he puts it, a localised flavour wheel is more accessible and relatable, encouraging both consumers and even producers to deepen their understanding of flavour. If producers can clearly articulate the coffee profiles buyers are looking for, it also gives them greater agency within the industry.

The first time I tasted a particular Yunnan coffee, a damp-wood note made it seem flawed to me. Yet a later cup of Yunnan coffee left a lasting impression: a clear, bright red hue, with citrus acidity and distinct oolong tea notes. It was truly unforgettable.

As the domestic consumer base for Yunnan coffee expands, and with a locally adapted flavour wheel for Chinese beans, will more people come to appreciate what Yunnan has to offer?

Just as Ethiopian coffee is celebrated for its floral notes, and Kenyan coffee for its bright acidity, Yunnan coffee undoubtedly possesses its own unique terroir characteristics. That subtle, tea-like quality with an underlying aromatic finesse deserves to be properly described, shared, and recognised.

IV. “What You Like Is Best!”

Another of my coffee mentors, Paolo, runs a specialty café that has been open for over twenty years. He never uses the flavour wheel, and once quipped, “That sort of thing is more at home with LAVAZZA, the pioneer of Italian commercial coffee, wouldn’t you say?”

In contrast to the SCA’s narrow focus on the “precision” and “science” of flavour, Paolo believes we ought to pay closer attention to every stage of the coffee’s journey. From the climate and altitude of the growing region, through fermentation and roasting, all the way to the brewing method and water used: alter any single variable and the taste will shift dramatically. We should welcome these evolving profiles with an open mind, rather than letting the flavour wheel confine our experience.

“If you’re truly keen on coffee, talk to growers and skilled roasters, drink more coffee, and join us for a free cupping next week. Don’t buy into all that flavour wheel nonsense!” Paolo’s guidance has been invaluable to me as a casual coffee enthusiast.

I’ve begun to look at coffee beans as an agricultural product, considering how climate and economic policy shape them, and how different water compositions during brewing alter the final cup. I no longer rigidly follow the SCA’s template to catalogue flavours.

Seek out different coffees, and describe your genuine experience with confidence. If you’d rather not just regurgitate memorised sensory cues, then cast off the flavour wheel’s rigid rules. As the tagline of MAME, a celebrated specialty café in Zurich, goes: “The coffee you like is the best coffee.”

Foodthink Author

Renso

Fascinated by unfamiliar foods, wandering around Italy with his cat, May.