Late August in Anderlecht. The morning already carries a cold edge, the wind comes from the north-east, the air is dry. Golden breathes over a sack of green beans from far away: Brazilian specialty coffee, roasted under the open sky of the market, not behind a wall. And as the metal heats, one thought won't leave me alone — the sky writing this lot today is the same sky that, over Brazil, has just rewritten the price of coffee for the whole world.
Brazilian specialty coffee: the weather, author at both ends
For five years, Brazil gave less coffee than it could. Drought, frost, failed flowering — the weather clenched its fist, and the world paid. This year the fist opened. The rain came on time over Minas Gerais, exactly when the blossoms needed it, and the 2026/27 harvest is shaping up to be a record — nearly 72 million bags, with arabica rebounding after half a decade of scarcity. The price, driven up by shortage, is easing back down.
We don't move the futures market. But we understand what few write down: it's the same force. The weather that, over Brazil's farms, decides whether the world has dear or cheap coffee is exactly the variable Golden hands the reins to every weekend. A climate-controlled roastery cancels it out for consistency. Here, at the market, we let it sign. That's the heart of the Meteo Koffie experience.
Brazilian specialty coffee: Cerrado terroir, a bean with body
The best Brazilian specialty coffee comes from Cerrado Mineiro, the country's first Designation of Origin. High plateau, 800 to 1,200 metres, red earth rich in iron. Out of it comes a bean with full body, notes of chocolate, hazelnut and caramel, a low, round acidity. Not a coffee that shouts. A coffee that stays — the bean made for a roast a step deeper, under an open sky.
And this summer, the Cerrado came to us. At World of Coffee Brussels, in June, the Cerrado Mineiro Designation of Origin held a stand at Expo Brussels, a few kilometres from our stalls. The origin we roast visited our city. We roast it outdoors, the way it was grown.
Brazilian specialty coffee: two births under the open sky
Here is what ties the Cerrado to Marché de l'Abattoir, and what no closed roastery can claim: Brazilian specialty coffee is born twice, outdoors.
The first time, in Brazil, where the cherry dries in the sun on terreiros — wide open patios where the bean spends days under the plantation's sky, turned with a rake, dried by the weather, not by a machine. A birth under the sky.
The second time, here. Golden roasts it in the open air at Marché de l'Abattoir, the exit of the Manufakture car park, Anderlecht. No roof to erase the weather, no fan blowing the same air forever. This weekend's cold north-east wind enters the fire and writes a lot that won't repeat.
Indoor roasters sell Brazil as a fixed note: "chocolate, hazelnut, low acidity", identical in every bag, all year. Correct, but dead. With us, the same origin passes through a sky that changes with every degree.
The Brazilian specialty coffee lot, this weekend
The world's harvest ripens far away. Ours is roasted here, Saturday and Sunday, at the Manufakture car park in Anderlecht, as long as the beans last. A few bags of the Brazilian lot catch the cold edge of this August — a chocolate body, roasted under a sky that decided to cool down.
Those who know, know: our Brazilian coffee and the rest of the shelves tell their story on their own.
Brut. Sauvage. Imprévisible.
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