Lonika Tay

Lonika Tay didn’t begin her coffee journey behind an espresso machine, nor did she imagine herself competing on an international stage. She started by packing coffee.

At a roastery in Indonesia, her days were spent weighing beans, sealing bags, and packing orders. She wasn’t part of the core coffee team, and she didn’t yet speak the language of tasting or origin. But what she did have was curiosity. Whenever she could, she would walk up to the roaster and ask questions — about the coffee, the process, and why everyone seemed to care so deeply about what was inside those bags.

That curiosity eventually earned her a seat in the QC room. Her first cupping, however, didn’t go as planned.

“I didn’t know what I was doing at all. When it was time to break the crust, I just sank the spoon into the bowl and started mixing everything. The team stopped me and said, ‘That’s not how you do it.’ They had to redo that bowl because of me. I was so embarrassed — everyone else was already a pro, and I had zero knowledge.”

It was an uncomfortable moment, but it became a turning point. Before working at the roastery, Lonika had actually trained to become a barista. After a short training program, she asked her boss where she would be stationed — which café she would work at. Instead, he told her to stay.

“He said the roastery needed me, but I didn’t even know what that meant at the time.”

So she stayed, packing coffee and slowly taking on more responsibility. When the pandemic arrived, her role expanded again. As people began brewing at home, online sales surged, and Lonika found herself helping manage orders during one of the busiest periods the roastery had ever experienced.

Eventually, though, the distance became too much. Living in the south of Jakarta and commuting north every day meant hours spent in traffic. She made the difficult decision to resign — unaware that she was also stepping away from an environment that quietly shaped her future.

While at the roastery, Lonika often watched baristas practice for competitions. Brewing, barista, and cup tasters — everyone trained together. Though she wasn’t competing herself, one day she asked if she could try cup tasting.

At the time, she thought it looked simple.

“I remember thinking, how hard can it be? You just need to find the different cup, right?”

Her first attempt proved otherwise. She scored three out of eight.

“That was when I realized how difficult it actually is. I even joked about wishing I had X-ray vision so I could see where the odd cup was. It sounds silly now, but back then, I really wanted it.”

After leaving the roastery, competition felt distant. But later, while working with Mikael Jasin, she asked his partner if she could pursue cup tasting seriously.

“He told me that as long as I was committed and willing to practice, they would support me. That was enough for me to try.”

Lonika went on to place 8th at the World Cup Tasters Championship in 2022, followed by 4th at the Indonesia Cup Tasters Championship in 2023 — an outcome she never expected.

“I wasn’t a barista. I was packing coffee. Even after training, I didn’t think I could compete, let alone place. So winning felt surreal. Becoming a sensory coach afterward was something I never imagined either, because I was never the fastest at describing flavors during cuppings.”

What she valued most about competing wasn’t the stage, but the process.

“I miss practicing together. Staying up late, laughing, tasting too much coffee, feeling exhausted but still enjoying it. You might get sick sometimes from tasting so much, but those moments — practicing as a group — were the most fun.”

For a period of her journey, Lonika stepped into the role of an educator, teaching sensory skills and guiding others through their first serious encounters with coffee tasting. Teaching, she explained, came with a different kind of responsibility.

“When you’re competing, you focus on yourself — how far you can push, how hard you can train. But when you’re teaching, it’s about making sure others truly understand. If I teach something wrong, that stays with them. When they pass the exams, especially the practical ones, it feels like confirmation that they listened and understood. And when they don’t, it becomes feedback for me too — it shows me where I can grow as a teacher.”

Her students come from many backgrounds. Some are baristas, others are complete newcomers. Through collaborations with universities, she often teaches people who are encountering coffee seriously for the first time.

“Teaching feels like a big responsibility. If I teach something wrong, that stays with them. So I always want to give my best. During exams, when students pass — especially the practical ones — it feels very rewarding because you know they listened, they understood, and you did your job properly.”

Lonika often hears people say that competitions are only for baristas. She disagrees.

“I think people believe you need to be a barista to compete, but that’s not true. I’m proof of that. If you’re a coffee enthusiast and you’re willing to put in the effort, you can compete.”

There was a time when she considered entering brewing competitions as well. Someone discouraged her, telling her it was too difficult and required years of experience.

“That made me question myself. I ended up not trying, and I regret that. So now, if there’s one thing I want to tell the community, it’s not to let other people decide your limits. If you want to compete, just go for it.”

Today, Lonika is entering a new chapter of her coffee journey. She is currently working on opening a café together with her cousin — a project rooted in family, creativity, and play. The café is called minuma(i)n, a name inspired by the Indonesian word minuman — meaning “drink” — with an added sense of playfulness.

“The idea is about play. My cousin and partner creates educational toys for kids using recycled and rejected wood, and she also bakes cakes. The café brings all of that together — drinks, creativity, and something joyful.”

For Lonika, the project feels less like a business decision and more like a natural extension of everything she has learned so far — community, curiosity, and creating spaces where people feel welcome.

Outside of coffee, Lonika speaks most passionately about her family.

“I’m an only child, there’s pressure, but I just want to make my parents proud. I want to give them as much as I can while they’re still here.”

When asked how she hopes to be remembered in the coffee world, her answer is simple.

“I want people to remember me as someone warm and bubbly… not just someone who won a competition, but someone who’s happy to meet others and genuinely excited to connect.”

 

Editor’s note:

We met Lonika during our Asia tour in 2025. She was introduced to us by Kersen — whom we know through Tanty — and it turned out she worked at a coffee academy located just beneath our hotel. Kersen suggested we visit “a very interesting girl,” and the next morning, we sat down for an interview.

Some stories announce themselves loudly. Others reveal their depth quietly. Lonika’s journey reminds us that coffee isn’t defined by titles or starting points — but by curiosity, persistence, and the courage to keep learning, even after sinking the spoon into the bowl.