The first coffee James McCarthy ever tasted came out of his dad's percolator, thick as mud, brewed and re-brewed until it barely resembled a drink. He was ten and sure he hated it. Two decades later, he's Joe's Director of Roasting.
His real start came in 2003, at Gimme Coffee in Ithaca, New York. Six months as a barista turned into a roasting gig, then into helping stand up the company's education department. Six years as a roastery tech at Counterculture followed, then more roasting, and a long list of friends scattered across the industry.
That's a big reason he's here. So many people he's known over the years have passed through Joe that walking in the door this spring felt less like a new job than a reunion. He hesitates to call it a family reunion, but the homecoming was real.
He was drawn to how Joe is built, too, especially the Ethical Business Council, the feedback structure that runs from barista all the way up. Being heard matters to him, whether or not every concern gets fully resolved. He talks about the line from farmer to barista as something sincere rather than a marketing angle, and about an accessibility he doesn't take for granted. There are serious experts at Joe, he's noted, who just don't make it an elitist thing.
Two months in, he's finding where he fits. Some of it is muscle memory. Six years as a tech means that when the roaster needed attention one day, he simply handled it, and when a QC question came up, he opened thirty sacks and started cupping. The rest is absorbing institutional knowledge that currently lives, he jokes, in one person's head, so he can step in wherever he's useful.
What he wants to build is mostly about making things easier for the people around him. More cupping and education sessions so the team stays sharp. A simpler roast report so the person actually roasting isn't buried in a spreadsheet. Morale wins as small as a second AC unit finally arriving for the summer floor. Systems he can make easier for everybody, support on the ground, every day.
Outside the roastery, life is just as full. There's a partner, a short-legged terrier mix, long walks and hikes in the park. He plays guitar for himself and reads constantly. A recent deep run on horror pulled him into two book clubs and talked his sister into starting a family one. Ask for a recommendation and you'll get Nothing But the Rain, a novella he loved start to finish. He and his partner are into crystals and herbalism, what he calls "witchy stuff."
Ask him for advice for younger queer people trying to break into roasting and he gets generous and specific. The coffee community is full of people willing to teach, and if there's no opening where you are, reach out anyway. Nine times out of ten, a roaster somewhere else would be delighted to get hit up. An email or a DM, even just a "hey, I'm interested too," goes a long way.
And the rest comes down to your palate. It comes from tasting all the time, and from trusting yourself, especially if you grew up somewhere your opinions weren't always treated as valid. "A lot of this shit is made up. How many times have you seen bergamot on a label?" There's real science to learn, too. But also: "You are the only one who has your taste experience. Build your palate and your knowledge from there."
