Building Excelsa has been a study in hard decisions, constant adjustments, and resilience. Among those lessons, expansion and contraction have been some of the most important for me to learn and understand. For so many years the central challenge has been how to bring this coffee to the level where it can truly be called the champagne of coffee. The work has been about getting the grade and the quality right, but at the same time we cannot simply disappear for three or four years, spend hundreds of thousands of dollars, and then hope we emerge with a product that succeeds. Without real time validation there would be no guarantee that the market would even want what we built.
So we build with what we have each year. We release coffee that is closer to where it needs to be, always hoping that this season is better than the last. Every year is about learning, adjusting, and moving a little closer to the target. At the same time every year we also need to generate sales, not just to keep the company alive, but because that feedback loop is essential. If we do not gather responses from real customers and continue to grow the brand, then after years of work and heavy investment we might discover that we never even had a viable business. This is why every cycle matters. We put our work into the market, we gather feedback, and we hope we do not burn the brand too much before the coffee reaches the level where it speaks for itself.
Our goal has always been to make Excelsa both the best cup of consumer coffee in the world and a regenerative force. That means sweetness through brix levels, sugar content, healthy topsoil, proper grade, careful processing, and above all consistency. It also means protecting farmers from climate change, keeping coffee out of laboratories, and ending the destructive cycle of monoculture. Excelsa must stand as a regenerative and restorative model. We do not expect to replace all of coffee. Perhaps in a century that will be possible, but today the target is more grounded. If we can establish regenerative systems across the world and capture even one or two percent of the global market in the next decade, that would be an astronomical success. It would not only validate Excelsa but also provide a roadmap for the future of coffee.
This year was the first time I decided to test our efforts with real marketing. After years of silence I wanted to see what we had. One day someone walked into the café with far more talent than the role she applied for. Within minutes of talking with her I could see she had talent that reached far beyond that role. She had industry knowledge, marketing instincts, and a perspective on influencers and sales that was rare. What began as a short interview turned into a conversation that lasted six or seven hours. I decided to take a chance and bring her into the marketing effort, even though it disrupted the structure of the company and stretched my own ability to manage.
The summer that followed was full of energy. We hosted events that drew more than one hundred and fifty people. We created campaigns, ran influencer activations, worked with PR, and built new social media content. We met with over one hundred cafes, twenty or more roasters, multiple distributors, influencers, photoshoots and more. She poured herself into the work, and the results showed.
Yet the truth remained that the coffee was not ready. She was trying to sell something that was not yet at the standard we are pursuing. While she made remarkable progress, I had not set her up for success. That responsibility falls on me.The champagne of coffee cannot be forced into the market through effort alone. It has to reach a point where people come to us because the quality demands it. The goal is not to beg for a place at the table. The goal is to create something so valuable that the world insists on being part of it.
This week I had to face the difficult reality of contraction. I told her that we need to shut down the marketing push. It was not because she lacked value, in fact she was extraordinary, but because efficiency is survival. A bootstrap company cannot afford to spend energy in the wrong places. I told her she could pick up hours in the café, and that we need to focus again on generating steady revenue while we work toward better grade and quality for the next season. Expansion brings energy and momentum. Contraction brings discipline and focus. Both are essential I am finding.
It is painful to contract, especially when it means risking the loss of someone you trust, and all the hard work and relationships (and fun) that has gone into what’s been done. It is hard to ask someone who has been leading exciting campaigns to go back to square one. I do not know if she will stay. She will probably need other work. That is the hardest part. Finding people you can trust is rare, and losing them hurts. But this is the reality of the company today.
Contractions are never comfortable. They are always difficult. Yet I’m learning to embrace their reality and discomfort as part of the process. Next year will bring another chance. We will continue to work toward a product that sells itself… like the ‘champagne of coffee’ does. We will continue to move toward the day when marketing is not about convincing but about managing demand. That is the point when Excelsa will succeed. We cannot compete with the global coffee industry as it exists today. The entire industry we are stepping into is trapped in a race to the bottom, a pricing war where cafés and distributors are forced to cut margins and chase volume simply to stay viable. That is not a game we can play. What we can do is something entirely different. We can introduce a premier cup of coffee that protects farmers, restores the land, and shifts the paradigm so that people understand why it is worth more. That is the real work in front of us. It is not just about building a product, it is about building a future. That is the work we must do to save coffee itself and to do our part to save the climate.
This is the journey I am learning. Expansion and contraction are not just business cycles, they are the rhythm of building something new. They are uncomfortable, painful, but they are also necessary. The lesson I’m learning is to embrace both sides, to carry the contractions with directness and dignity, and to see them not as failure but as part of the work. Expansion brings energy and possibility. Contraction brings clarity and discipline. Together they move us forward. I hold onto the hope that better days will come, that the discomfort will give way to growth, and that each step takes us closer to building the champagne of coffee.