From a Quiet Cup to the World Stage: My Story with Panamanian Coffee and the Lamastus Family

There are moments in life that don’t announce themselves as important — they just unfold, quietly. One such moment for me happened over a cup of coffee, in a small, humble shop tucked into Casco Viejo’s First Street — a place most wouldn’t wander in 2012.

Back then, Casco wasn’t what you see today. Maybe six or eight restaurants, no real foot traffic to speak of. I had just bought my home four years prior. The streets still had that sleepy Bohemian feel, full of promise but not yet discovered. One morning, on a whim, I wandered into a little café called Bajareque. I’d heard murmurs about the coffee but didn’t expect much. I ordered a cup, sat down, and took a sip.

And something happened.

The taste stopped me. It was rich, but clean — full of character yet light on its feet. I turned to Leanne and said, “I don’t know what it is, but I need to come back tomorrow. I’m craving this coffee already lol.” I didn’t even know that was possible.

The next morning, I went again. This time, there was just one other man in the place, working on a laptop — same age as me. Naturally, I struck up a conversation. It turns out that man was Wilford Lamastus Sr. — a name I didn’t yet know, but one that would soon become deeply important in my world.

We got talking — about Panama, about coffee. At some point, he turned his laptop around and said, “Do you know where the best coffee in the world comes from?” I threw out the usual suspects: Brazil? Costa Rica? He smiled and said, “No. Panama.”

He wasn’t boasting. He was educating. On his screen was the global market ranking of specialty coffees — and Panama, to my surprise, was already quietly taking its place at the top. This was before the Geisha boom, before the auctions, before the headlines. That conversation lasted an hour or more, and Wilford never once mentioned his own estate. Instead, he talked with reverence about the volcanic soil of Boquete, the experimental varietals being nurtured, and this delicate, tea-like coffee called Geisha — a bean so nuanced it was gaining attention from Japan.

Looking back now, I realize I was sitting next to the man who would redefine the value and global perception of coffee — and yet, in that moment, it was just two blokes in a nearly empty shop, sharing a proper cup.

That cup — and that conversation — started a friendship that’s lasted years.

Over time, Bajareque closed. No grand announcement, just another Casco chapter ending. But the Lamastus family’s journey was just beginning. Wilford Sr. — and soon after, his son Wilford Jr. — would become global ambassadors for Panama Geisha Coffee. From Tokyo to Dubai to Seoul, they brought Geisha to the world. And Panama responded — not with marketing, but with excellence. Today, their Elida Estate Geisha sells for upwards of $10,000–$13,000 a kilo at auction. It’s not just the most expensive coffee in the world — it’s the most respected.

Still, despite their success, the Lamastus family stayed rooted in their values — never chasing celebrity, always leading with heart.

Walking through the coffee plantation at Elida Estate in Boquete

Inspecting naturally processed Geisha coffee beans at the drying station

A few years ago, I was watching an episode of the U.S. show Billions. In one scene, a character gifts a kilo of Geisha from Elida Estate — a mention made to the family, but not product placement — just a quiet nod to those who know. I smiled. I thought about that morning in Bajareque.

Unroasted Geisha coffee beans before roasting

Fast forward to today — I don’t see Wilford Sr. as much anymore, but I see Wilford Jr. often. He’s every bit as generous, passionate, and grounded as his father — and he’s taken things even further.

The Elida Estate in Boquete, Panama — where Geisha history begins

Which brings me to SISU Coffee Studio.

Set on 9th Street and Avenue B at the entrance of Casco Viejo, SISU isn’t just another café. It’s a statement. It’s a celebration of Panama’s greatest export. And it’s not just for tourists. It’s for us — for Panamanians, for residents, for people who understand that sitting with a good cup of coffee is one of life’s great honours.

When Leanne was building her design studio next door, I asked Wilford Jr., “Why here?” He said, “James, through my research, this is the second-most walked street in Panama. It’s where the new eyes are.”

SISU Coffee Studio at the entrance to Casco Viejo — a beacon of Panama’s coffee culture

He was right.

What SISU represents to me is more than just a beautiful space or a perfect cup. It’s a continuation of that first conversation. It’s a culmination of hard work, passion, and quiet excellence. It’s a family story — and I’m lucky to have witnessed it.

If you come to Panama, don’t just visit SISU because someone told you to. Come because this is the kind of place that leaves an impression. It’ll give you something to talk about for years to come. It’ll give you a story to share — just like mine. And maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll sit next to someone who changes the way you see the world.

A perfect latte at SISU Coffee Studio — where the story continues