They say "medium" on the packet - and they mean it. This is a real family pleaser this one. It won't cure your hangover back at work on monday morning after a weekend's bender, but it will serve you well at that Monday coffee morning with the Girl Guides. It's not just plain old coffee though - even though it's not a single origin packet with some fancy blurb on the side, it's more than just "medium roast". It's smooth and mellow, yes, and we really had to spoon it up to get the kind of kick the Judges need. But when we did, it really was a nice cultured glug. If there is such a thing. This one also delivered a super creamy head on it every time, which meant it just looked so appetising. All in all, a superb coffee, only letting itself down on strength, but, as usual, that's our problem, not theirs. There's nothing for it but a whopping 9/10.

We picked up this one in Barcelona - it's a big corporate brand who've chosen a comedy name. Well done Nestle - don't pretend you didn't know what you were doing. I thought maybe that "Bonka" actually meant something in Spanish or Catalan. Well I suppose it does. It means "Bonka". Once we're over the Sid James guffawing, we open the solid block packet and, as with every European coffee, as soon as it's open you get the hard smash in the face that only normally comes from being hit in the face by an ashtray loaded with butts left over from an all night session in the worlds biggest cigar room having just held a Winston Churchill appreciation evening. Where ever that is. Man, it's harsh. We treated it with kid gloves and kept the dose at the absolute minimum - four barely level spooons for two cups. There's no need to even stew this for the usual 3.30 minutes - as soon as you stir it - it's ready. A black vat of used sump oil. Still - we're no wallflowers here in courtroom 600 and will bring anyone to book. The smell in the cup is pure carbon. The taste is akin to shotgunning a mug of it through the funnel of the Flying Scotsman just as it pulls into Edinburgh. But you do get used to it.. but only if you like it strong. If you're a Gold Blend lover, this will probably put you in an early grave. So we will finish the packet of this stuff - on principle. But it's not for the faint hearted. (5/10)

This is a strength 5 coffee that everyone should try. I didn't even realise it was a five until we'd finished the packet and I saw the label. Yes it has all the good points of a fiver, but none of the bads. In the cup, even from our french press, it looks so appetising - a nice layer of light coloured head which just invites you to slurp it up. And no matter how many times I made it - every cup came out identical. Perfect for the coffee making novice - I defy anyone to cock this one up. All the way down the cup, the strong flavour holds, with no nasty aftertaste. Just that slight creamy feel on your tongue. It somehow feels as comforting as a cup of hot cocoa on a cold winters night. The only thing holding me back from givng this a full 10/10 rating is the lack of any fancy flowery-ness. But then it never claimed to have that - so maybe that's just my problem? Anyway - its a 9/10

Ethiopian coffee is always good - but never quite as good as Kenya or Tanzania. It's always just that bit more run-of-the-mill. The most common one we've had is from Yirgacheffe - but this one's a new one. Never heard of Harar. It's pre-ground from Suma, and has a great smell when you burst that packet. This one is super-fragrant, it's flowery, it's citrussy, it's all those poncy things. We loved it. Anyone would like this one too - you can't overdose on it - it comes out the same every single time, with a good head even from our aging plunger. The only bad thing about it was how fast the packet went down 'cos we loved it so much. It's a lush and it's a 10/10

This is the first ground coffee we've had in a while - it seems we've turned into such ponces we can only drink freshly ground beans these days. It wasn't that long ago we were moaning about the effort involved in the grinding. What hypocrites. Still, this stuff comes from Waitrose, which at least goes some way towards reclaiming our ponce-rating. This is nice smooth coffee. No flowery-ness or citrus - just a good old fashioned cup of Joe. It's easy to knock up - even being a strength 4 we still couldn't over egg it. Not sure about the packaging though - it looks more like a pack of Turkish Delight. Still - a very solid 7/10

We all know Waitrose for supplying some poncy stuff - but mainly the same old stuff as Tesco but to posh people, and charging double the price. That's why they always have such large windows - so they can see the Toffs coming from a mile off. Having said that, if there was one near me I'd be in there like a rat up a drainpipe stocking up on un-leavened bread and exotic chillies. So we came by this one sent through the post by Judge Hank himself, who has upgraded his life and now buys his everything in Waitrose. Enough of the carping - he warned us this was good. But we weren't prepared for quite how good. It's up there with the best - a no questions 10/10. Why? First - you can't cock it up - being a strength 3 even if you try and OD on it, you will fail. Secondly that citrus sweetness they mention on the packet really is there, in spades. When we ground this the whole office woke up and they all wanted some of it - it smells glorious. We could slurp the whole packet down in a day if we had to. Although that wouldn't be that many cups - as the beans are massive and I don't think we'll get more than three rounds out of this bag. But it's only £3.29 a bag. So stop reading this, go find your local Toff shop and buy it now. Well done Waitrose. 10/10

Austria is renowned for it’s exports that you just do not mess with. Stroh Rum, Hitler etc.. and coffee needs adding to that list. It’s like an entire Panzer division running roughshod over your face when all you were trying to do was have a quiet morning coffee. They’ve laced it with heavy hitting Robusta beans – and you can smell them as soon as you open the half-kilo brick of coffee that could double as a useful murder weapon. Then they roast the arse off of it. There’s no point coming near this unless you like your face disfigured by tank tracks. Maybe it can be latte-fied – who knows – I wouldn’t dare. As we like ours strong, it does well for us, but it’s a real commitment, as on first taste you will flinch and your eyes will shed tears of blood. It’s not until you put the work in to get through the cup that you start to get the pleasure. By the end I was loving it, strapping on my Lederhosen and prancing about whistling the Lonely Goatherd. So it's a difficult on to score - it starts as a 4/10 but ends as an 8/10 – which must means it scores the average – 6/10. Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo

This coffee has been roasted so lightly and the beans are so light beige that they look like fossilised remains swept up from the floor of Starbuck’s Pompeii branch. Each bean has a lot of “chaff” in the middle too – after we’d ground them we had to put them through a bloody threshing machine. This is not a strong coffee – and you can’t overdo it either. We really spooned this up to the max. it’s a really fruity little coffee – not what we were expecting from a Caribbean coffee at all. It could easily be mistaken for a top-notch Kenyan. Packed full of flavour and with a nice creamy head on it – this really is a good 'un. I can only give it an 8/10 though as it just lacked punch for me.  But I still loved it. What am I saying?  Scrap that…it’s a 9/10.

This coffee is the El Cheapo of the Ginerva range, and it's 100% Robusta. That sounds like a bloody terrible combination and your coffee gagging reflex should be preparing itself for the worst. The beans are small and dark - and there's not much more you can say about them than that. After grinding, you'll be struggling with what looks like a thick, black, tarry mess all over your plunger - and i don't like anything messing up my plunger. It's not even giving off a good smell - no one will be rushing in to the kitchen telling you how good it smells brewing up. So far, so bad. Until... you get this stuff down your gullet and you quickly realise that this one is a dark horse. It's a right little cracker. Yes - you have to like your strong coffees to appeciate it and want to be slapped around by those dinky Robusta beans. But at only a tenner for a 1kg pack this is such good value - just get yourself some, and mainline it. Now. They've rated this at strength four and a half - which is a new one on us. It's a an 8/10 from me - and I've only docked it as it brews up so un appetisingly. Just don't show your guests the mess and you can be a cheapskate coffee hero.

Not renowned for it's coffee, we were a bit nervous with this one. It even comes from a tea producing region of China. Maybe these are just counterfeit tea leaves? The beans, it has to be said, look horrific. They are small, beige and dusty. They look like little bits of old chocolate that have gone white with age as they've been left in the corner shop window too long. There's no great smell when you make it either - you're just dealing with some plain, brown powder that could be anything. But in the cup it's actually ok. It won't set the world alight, but it does the job quite nicely. It's a niche coffee really - it's uniqueness is merely that is is Chinese - which actually is more uniqueness than some of the bland shite we've tasted. The nuttyness is there though - my first thought was chocolate, then chicory, then hazelnuts. None of which should be in my coffee, they should be in a box of Thorntons. 7/10 from Judge Nooge.