The Java Journals: Coffee & Wine – Terroir, Craft, & Rituals that Matter

For years, I have written about wine the way some people talk about love, with too much heart and never enough sense. Wine Walkabout was my passport through vineyards and villages, a front-row seat to the chaos and charm of a world seemingly obsessed with the bottle. I chased Rieslings along the Mosel, lingered too long in Rioja, and learned that the story of wine isn’t just about grapes, it’s about people, weather, and the stubbornness of those who refuse to give up on the land.

But the more I wrote, the more I realized wine was only half the conversation. There’s another drink just as ancient, just as layered, that happens to fuel the other side of our lives. Coffee.

Wine and coffee are siblings separated by time of day. Both are born of dirt and sweat, of weather patterns and human madness. Both rely on the same kind of people, who are those who wake before dawn, stare at a crop, and somehow see poetry in the repetition. The winemaker and the roaster, the vineyard hand and the picker, they all speak the same quiet language of patience and pursuit.

Terroir is the buzzword that wine geeks like me cling to. It’s that mystical mix of soil, sun, and soul. But talk to a great coffee grower in Ethiopia or Colombia and you’ll hear the same reverence. The altitude, the microclimate, the minerals in the dirt that help shape flavor, character, and memory. Bordeaux has its Left Bank; coffee has its Blue Mountain: same gospel, different choir.

And yet, the energy around the two couldn’t be more different. Wine seduces—coffee steadies. Wine is the velvet curtain; coffee is the sunrise behind it. One invites chaos, and laughter filled with bad decisions, and good stories. The other restores order, a kind of reset for the mind before the day takes over.

After years of writing about the intoxication of night, I found myself drawn to the clarity of morning. The grind, the pour, the hiss of steam — over the decades, it has become my ritual. Almost going unnoticed in the noise of the morning, which can make you quickly forget to take a moment to reflect and slow down. The simplicity of it humbled me. Coffee didn’t ask for adjectives or applause. It just showed up, honest, grounding, and necessary.

That’s what led me here: The Java Journals — a new column for those who have followed me through vineyards and now want to wander into the roastery. It’s not about leaving wine behind; it’s about completing the circle. Because the same curiosity that drives us to open a new bottle can drive us to explore what’s in our morning cup, I attempt to balance the bottle itself. Coffee is roasted with the same care that I would give to decanting a vintage Barolo, infused with the kind of wellness and ritual that modern life desperately needs. Coffee isn’t about trends or marketing; it’s about gratitude. About finding meaning in the grind — literally.

Whether you’re pouring Pinot at midnight, espresso after a fine dining experience, or savoring coffee at dawn, the truth is the same: life’s most decadent flavors come from work, weather, and waiting. They come from showing up, again and again, for the small things, which can almost certainly make the big things bearable.

So, here’s to the farmers, the roasters, the sommeliers, and the dreamers. To the late-night poets and early-morning grinders. To those of us chasing connection, one cup or glass at a time.

The Java Journals will work in balance with my Wine Walkabout series— same rogue travelers, new terrain, fresh perspective.

Stay tuned; next, we’ll journey through the world of coffee: from the volcanic soils of Guatemala to the misty highlands of Ethiopia, from the roaster’s drum to expand your morning ritual. There’s a whole world waiting for us in that cup.

John Noakes is the author of Wine Walkabout and the founder of Grateful Coffee & Wellness, an online coffee store dedicated to the craft, terroir, and rituals that bring body and brain into balance.

You can find me and my coffee at Gratefulcoffeeco.com