I have a confession. As difficult as this may be for you to hear, oh adoring public, I guarantee it is far more difficult for me to say.

I'm not sure how to tell you. So I will begin with a story about a young lad who was approximately 18 years old. One day, I . . . er, the boy walked into a wondrous coffee shop, the likes of which he had never seen before. In the corner of the shop was a small but working coffee roaster. Behind the roaster, was a series of ornate glass bins, each one full of roasted coffee beans. Each one of these bins was labeled with an exotic sounding name such as Guatemala Huehuetenango or Sumatra Mandheling. The names sounded strangely enticing, but at the same time, so unusual and foreign that as the boy looked for one to order, he gravitated toward one that sounded familiar. Finding comfort in the European connotations it offered, he bravely stepped up to the counter and placed his order.

As soon as he did, he could tell by the way the shopkeeper's impish grin drew serious that he had committed a serious faux pas.

"And why exactly do you want French roast?" demanded the shopkeeper. The boy, shocked at being put on the spot, was at a loss for words. Why should he have to justify himself? Who is this guy? And most important, he thought to himself, "I really have no idea why I want French roast."

And now for the shocking plot twist in this story that you never saw coming. That young boy . . . (dramatic pause) was ME.

As controversial as it may been to have told you that you're all drinking total swill (see "You Had Me at Cappuccino" in the previous issue), I assure you, it's rocking way more boats to throw this one out there: French roast is total crap!

That's right, I said it. And I know that to some of you, them's fighting words. But I just wouldn't be me if I didn't at least try to tackle this one head-on.

You see, the coffee world's biggest secret is that we (well, certain segments of our industry) have successfully marketed burnt coffee as something actually desirable.

As coffee professionals, it is probably the biggest misconception we face when educating consumers. It is more difficult still, because unlike most other misconceptions, it one that customers cling to, even argue about. If I like it, they ask, how is it wrong?

And that is a fair point. Like with wine, the best coffee is the one you enjoy the most . . .  except when it comes to French roast. Let me explain why.

Let's begin with a rundown of the coffee roasting process and what "French roast" means anyway. Unroasted coffee is the dried seed of a cherry that grows on a coffee tree. Its color is similar to that of a sunflower seed. During the roasting process, moisture in the bean begins to expand and break down the bean's cellular walls. Without going into too much detail, this is what begins the process by which the flavor of the coffee is developed.

The roasting process also brings about two other changes that essentially make coffee taste like coffee. The first is that the carbohydrates break down and begin forming sugars. This lends a natural sweetness to the coffee, and as the roast continues, these sugars begin to caramelize and form more complexity. Now most artisan roasters will stop here. But not the French roast degenerate. No, these enemies of coffee are bent on destroying all flavor and replacing it with charcoal. This is not a joke. As the coffee continues to be roasted, the caramelized sugars next begin to carbonize. Yes, that's carbon, as in the main ingredient in charcoal. (Hey, we don't call them Charbucks for nothing.) Whereas a medium-roasted coffee may contain dozens of subtle flavors, the "flavors" of  French roast have all been replaced with the dominating taste of just one thing: carbon.

The other thing that happens during roasting is that volatile oils inside the bean are created and released. Coffee stashes a good deal of its aroma and flavor in these aromatic oils. The longer the roast, the more porous the cellular walls of the bean become, and the more the  oils are forced to the surface of the bean. This is very, very bad for two reasons. One, the oils are prone to evaporate and take their precious cargo of flavor with them. Secondly and far worse, the oils go rancid very quickly (within a few days) and contribute an off taste and odor to coffee.

So the next time a friend insists on drinking a cup of French roast, claiming that it has a bold taste, kindly point out that that taste, bold as it may be, is called "bitter." It is how we know something is poisonous in the wild.