About the roastery
Friedhats is a micro-roastery based in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. According to the roastery’s own About page, their focus is on finding “the most interesting coffees,” guided by a mission they summarize succinctly as “Less marketing, more coffee.” In an era of heavily hyped and increasingly expensive specialty coffee—often failing to live up to its own promises—this stance feels both timely and refreshing.
Friedhats describes its approach as follows:
“Sourcing it based on flavour. Roasting it to accentuate its natural characteristics. Training people to make sure everyone can taste all that our coffees have to offer and all the while, trying to actually improve the lives of the people growing and producing the coffee all around the world.”
They further emphasize consistency, transparency, and honesty, stating that they only sell coffee that tastes great and that they source directly from producers as well as from trusted importers across Europe. Sustainability, they argue, is not a buzzword but an ongoing process—one in which they openly acknowledge imperfection while actively searching for ways to reduce environmental impact. This philosophy extends to their packaging, which they aim to make reusable, refillable, or at the very least recyclable. Ultimately, their stated goal is simple but ambitious: coffee that tastes great, no matter who prepares it.
Whether these claims hold up is something to be evaluated in the cup—and that will be addressed later.
Among my friends, I have a long-running joke: any self-respecting coffee roastery must feature a photograph of the person who actually grew the coffee—typically taken on a plantation somewhere in Colombia (or elsewhere), often depicting a farmer with an unbuttoned shirt. Friedhats does not disappoint.
That said, this particular image is not a marketing device but part of their journaling section, which offers a more documentary glimpse into their sourcing practices. It’s a section I’d genuinely like to see expanded further.
I first came across Friedhats on Reddit, in one of the many recurring threads titled something along the lines of “Where do you order your coffee?” Their distinctive web design certainly played a role in catching my attention, as did the specificity and confidence of their coffee descriptions. Call it naïve, but these details suggest a level of care—and intention—that goes beyond surface-level branding.
Webshop selection
The coffee selection is fairly comprehensive, spanning both African origins—such as Rwanda and Ethiopia—and South and Central American producers, including Colombia, Panama, and Brazil. Several coffees are offered across multiple roast profiles (Omni, Espresso, and Filter), while others are available only in specific profiles or a subset of those options. In addition, the lineup includes a sample box, a house blend, a decaffeinated coffee, and a low-caffeine option.
At the time of purchase, multiple Gesha coffees were also available—an increasingly common but still notable feature. Taken together, the range is broad enough to cater to most preferences within today’s specialty coffee landscape.
Pricing appears broadly in line with other EU-based specialty roasters. A 250 g bag of single-origin coffee typically falls in the €16–20 range, while Gesha offerings are priced at roughly two to three times that amount, which is standard for the category. This is not a judgment on value for money, but rather an observation that the pricing structure aligns with current market norms.
Subscriptions are also available, alongside larger-format packaging such as a 1 kg bag of the house blend, both of which appear reasonably priced. Beyond coffee, the shop includes a merchandise and brewing tools section. The merchandise may appeal to fans of the brand, though it’s not particularly compelling to me personally. The tooling selection is modest—there are a few interesting items, but nothing I would actively seek out, aside from the occasional need for replacement AeroPress filters.
One aspect of the browsing experience that detracts slightly is the handling of out-of-stock items. “Sold out” products remain visible, with their status embedded directly in the product name. This often leads to initial interest followed by the realization that the coffee is unavailable. Additionally—and this is a broader critique applicable to many roasters—the roast profile could be made more immediately visible. While filters are available, clearer upfront labeling would improve usability.
That said, individual coffee pages are well executed and highly informative. All relevant details are presented clearly, including origin, processing method, altitude, and other variables. For those who are particularly specific about such parameters, the information is comprehensive. An amusing, if entirely unnecessary, touch is the use of a fully rotatable 3D render of the coffee packaging—something no one asked for, but which is oddly entertaining nonetheless.
Order & delivery
The overall purchasing process was straightforward. Browsing and selecting coffee was generally smooth, and the shopping cart interface is clear and well designed.
Checkout is handled via Shop App, which functioned without issue. Delivery, however, was a more mixed experience. I am based in Croatia, and while the delivery page states that shipping within the Eurozone is free for orders over €75, my order—well above that threshold—was still charged €21 for shipping. This appears to be a lingering geographical oversight rather than a deliberate policy, but it is nevertheless frustrating. Croatia has been an EU member since 2013 and part of the Schengen Area for some time now; situations like this are, unfortunately, still fairly common.
Shipping was handled by DHL in combination with the Croatian Post and was relatively fast. The order was placed on January 14 and delivered on January 20, well under a week.
The packaging itself was solid and in line with expectations set by the website. Nothing stood out as particularly noteworthy—either positively or negatively—but everything arrived intact and well presented. As is customary with many specialty roasters, a few stickers were included in the box.
Coffee
Colombia
First up: Jairo Arcila Colombia. I’m fairly sure I’ve had coffee from Jairo Arcila before, though I can’t quite place when. Worth noting upfront: I’m generally biased toward Colombian coffees. There’s just something about them that reliably works for me—unlike Brazilian coffees, which tend to be more hit-or-miss in my experience (no shade intended).
This one was roasted a bit over two weeks before the first tasting, so it should be sitting comfortably in the sweet spot. Visually, the beans look great: even, consistent, and nicely roasted.
Opening the bag—bottle, sorry, old habits die hard—you’re immediately hit with a strong dark chocolate aroma. Very strong. I don’t really get pineapple on the nose, but to be fair, I’ve never been great at identifying fruit notes that way, and I’m also coming off a cold, so my nose isn’t exactly firing on all cylinders. The funk, though? Very much present.
Dialing in was painless. Two shots and I was there. The beans behaved exactly as I’d expect based on the roast level, which is always reassuring.
In the cup, the espresso leans hard into dark chocolate—both on the nose and the palate. To the point where you momentarily wonder whether you’re actually just eating a piece of very good dark chocolate. The first couple of extractions were punchy and fairly acidic, which I personally don’t mind at all. The finish is clean, with a lingering chocolate aftertaste that sticks around nicely.
Now, about that funk: there’s a lot of it, and it’s definitely interesting. But I can also see how some people might find it a bit much. This doesn’t strike me as an everyday, multiple-days-in-a-row kind of coffee—nor necessarily a first-thing-in-the-morning espresso. It’s a bit demanding. That’s not a bad thing, but it’s something to be aware of.
Would I buy it again? Absolutely. Would I buy it again immediately? Probably not. I’d need a little time before coming back to it. It’s a bit like a really good, high-proof spirit: you enjoy it, you appreciate it—and then you wait a bit before pouring another. Maybe next weekend.
I also tried it as a latte. Still good, but not where it shines. The milk doesn’t really mellow out the acidity, and the result is a drink that’s… loud. Interesting, but not particularly harmonious.
Interestingly, I made this coffee in a moka pot this morning—and I really like it prepared that way. The acidity is noticeably more mellow, and the funk takes a step back, making the whole cup feel more balanced and approachable.
My routine is moka pot coffee in the morning and espresso closer to noon, and this coffee fits into that rhythm surprisingly well. I tend to brew a fairly large moka pot and sip it slowly throughout the morning. Some people might look at that habit with mild disapproval, but I actually enjoy how the coffee evolves over time—you end up experiencing three or four slightly different cups as it cools.
As I’m writing this, it’s late morning, and I just took a sip of the coffee completely cold. And honestly? It still works. Smooth, chocolate-forward, and very drinkable. That alone feels like a small endorsement.
Extra: J’s Sticker review
J is my two-year-old toddler, and anyone familiar with that age group will know that stickers hold a particular fascination. Perhaps it’s about permanence—or the simple joy of leaving one’s mark on the world. As shown in the photos above, Friedhats included several stickers with the order, which naturally invited a secondary (and entirely unsolicited) review.
Unfortunately, the stickers did not meet J’s standards. The primary issue appears to be usability: the stickers peel from the edge rather than being die-cut from a larger backing sheet. This, in her view, makes it unnecessarily difficult to identify where peeling should begin. Ease of access, it seems, is non-negotiable.
Aesthetic concerns were also raised. The monochromatic color scheme failed to spark interest, and I regret to report that none of the stickers were applied to any surface—an unmistakable sign of disapproval.
The verdict is clear. From J’s perspective, Friedhats needs to improve its sticker offering.
For context, the current benchmark remains Candy Cane Coffee from Prague. Their colorful, plentiful stickers—paired with genuinely good coffee—continue to set the standard. Until that changes, they remain firmly in first place in the highly competitive toddler sticker category.
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