By Mark Pendergrast
Published: February 28, 2011

Gaviña Coffee, one of the 10 largest roasters in the United States, is still a family business, with leadership in the process of transitioning to the fourth generation.

In 1864 brothers José and Ramón Gaviña left their native Spain to seek their fortune in Cuba. They grew tobacco until a hurricane wiped out their business, so in 1870 they retreated to the mountains of central Cuba, where they planted coffee trees, eventually picking beans on 400 acres they called Hacienda Buenos Aires. During the Spanish-American War, the farm was partially burned and the family interned in Spanish concentration camps, where José’s wife died.

After the war, the brothers returned to the mountains and replanted. José remarried. In
1903 his second wife gave birth to Francisco, who grew up on the coffee farm and learned to roast their beans (and those from surrounding
fincas, or estates). In 1960 Fidel Castro’s government confiscated the farm and allowed Russia to install missiles there, precipitating the Cuban Missile Crisis. By that time, Francisco, his wife, and four children had fled to Spain. Unable to find work there, Francisco went to Miami, where he washed dishes, picked tomatoes and worked other odd jobs. After his family joined him the following year, they moved to California, largely because the climate was better for his wife’s allergies.

In 1967 Francisco purchased a small roaster in Vernon, Calif., southeast of Los Angeles. At the age of 64, he launched F. Gaviña & Sons, along with three of his children: Francisco, then 24; Pedro, 22; and José, 21. His young daughter, Leonor, 15, was left out of the name, but she too would join the coffee firm in a few years.

At first Gaviña roasted only for the local Cuban community and other ethnic group. His customers called the patriarch Don Francisco. As the gourmet coffee movement grew during the 1970s and ’80s, the Gaviña family expanded into that market. In 1982 Don Francisco was one of the founding members of the Specialty Coffee Association of America. That same year, when a friend bought a local McDonald’s franchise, Gaviña supplied the coffee and subsequently sold to many other California McDonald’s locations.

After their father’s death in 1996, the children carried on, branding their coffee Don Francisco’s in his honor. Today Pedro, Jose and Leonor run the company, while Pedro’s sons Michael and Peter, José’s daughter Lilly and Francisco’s daughter Yanelle have also joined the family business. Leonor’s college-age daughter, Anna, works there part-time. “When we have family dinners,” 30-year-old Michael says, “I’m never sure if it’s a business meeting or a meal.”

Pedro learned to cup coffee from Don Francisco. “My father was passionate about consistency and quality,” he says. In turn, Pedro introduced his son Michael to cupping. In 2008 Michael passed the rigorous Q Grader test of the Coffee Quality Institute, and he now trains others for the exam. Gaviña boasts six Q Graders, including Leonor.

Unlike most specialty roasters, Gavina caters primarily to large private label customers such as Costco (where the coffee is branded as José’s), Publix and McDonald’s, as well as 3,000 coffeehouses and restaurants. The firm sells over 40 million pounds of beans annually, more than half in vacuum cans. The company includes lower quality robusta beans in its Café La Llave Espresso blend, produced for Florida’s Latin market.

Nonetheless, their high-end single origins and blends, sold under Don Francisco’s Family Reserve label, are often unusual finds, sold at very reasonable prices in one-way valve bags. Pedro and Michael travel to origin (mostly in Central America) to source some of their beans, such as the Guatemala Olopa I’ve been drinking. It is made from high-grown
pacamara beans-a cross between maragogipe and paca (a Salvadoran variety) that produces large, attractive beans. The cups pack a bright acidity, with citrus notes. “You have to be really careful with the degree of roast with the pacamaras,” observes Michael. “When we roasted them just two degrees darker, they lost all their flavor and acidity.”

I have also enjoyed the Family Reserve Sumatra, which was pre-ground. “It’s not always best to sell whole beans,” says Pedro, “if customers don’t have high-quality grinders. We offer a consistent, superior grind.” I certainly found no fault with this Sumatran blend from the Aceh region, roasted darker than the pacamaras, and featuring an earthy, full-bodied chocolate taste. “In Sumatra they break all the rules for how to process coffee,” Pedro observes, “but the imperfections yield coffee with real character. Try it with chocolate mousse.”

In the 21st century, it is refreshing to find a large coffee roaster that hasn’t been bought out or gone public. Has anyone made Gaviña any offers? Yes, but the family turned them down. “Coffee is in our blood,” says Pedro. “We can’t just walk away. Besides, what would I do? Die?”

Mark Pendergrast is author of Uncommon Grounds, a history of coffee.