COFFEE BEANS & BEINGS / ROBUSTA BEANS: GUILTY OF BAD COFFEE? TRUE OR A BUM RAP?

Robusta has a rap sheet. And for many coffee drinkers, it’s an open-and-shut case: bitter, brash, and too quick to stain the tongue. 

You’ve tasted it in the last gas station cup you couldn’t finish. You’ve smelled it in hotel lobby brews that promised “premium” and delivered burnt rubber. You’ve endured it in the kind of instant coffee that left you wondering if hot water was better on its own. 

But is Robusta really guilty of making bad coffee—or just guilty by association? 

Let’s examine the facts. 

Exhibit A: Punch Drunk.

Robusta beans naturally pack twice the caffeine of Arabica. That punch comes with a side of chlorogenic acids and less sugar, leading to a taste often described as bitter, burnt, or woody. Unlike Arabica’s gentle florals or fruity nuance, 

Robusta hits like a door slammed in your face. 

The prosecution rests. 

Exhibit B: The Company It Keeps 

Most Robusta ends up in cheap blends, instant packets, and mass-market espresso fillers. It’s rarely the star of the show. Instead, it plays backup in bulk bags marked “break room.” It’s the filler in your parents’ freeze-dried tin. In the world of coffee, Robusta is typecast—coffee's rough cousin who never gets invited to cuppings. That bad reputation isn’t entirely undeserved. 

Exhibit C: The Farmers’ Defense 

But here’s where the story complicates. Robusta grows where Arabica won’t—lower altitudes, harsher climates, less delicate soils. It’s resilient, higher-yielding, and disease-resistant. For tens of thousands of small farmers across West Africa, Southeast Asia, and Latin America, Robusta isn’t a flaw. It’s survival. In places like Togo, Uganda, and Vietnam, single-origin Robusta is being reimagined: shade-grown, handpicked, and roasted with care. 

Some boutique roasters now claim it has potential—offering chocolatey, nutty, and even creamy notes when processed well. Is that enough for a retrial? 

Exhibit D: Perfect accomplice.

Asian's, especially in Vietnam, tolerate Robusta bean's flaws by blending in sweet canned milk with enough sugar to hide the bad evidence.  Case in point: Saigon Coffee at 30th and Lincoln in North Park has had wrap around the block lines of afficiandos since the day it opened last year.

Final Verdict: Guilty with an explanation

For most of us raised on Arabica’s soft-spoken sweetness, Robusta still feels like a rough ride. And bad coffee—true bad coffee—is usually badly roasted, badly blended Robusta. But guilty as it may be in your memory, Robusta deserves a nuanced sentence. Not exoneration. But maybe probation—with supervision, a good roast, and a fresh start. 

--By Holden DeMayo, Coffee Editor, PillartoPost.org.  Illustration: F. Stop Fitzgerald.