Now, because of my darling coffee obsessed friends, I've had to study the differences between coffee presses and drip coffee makers. I grind my own beans. In fact, even my grinder is getting an upgrade to the newest Burr grinder. The best. I dream of sitting outside next to roasting beans, letting the aroma wash over me.
When I shop for coffee, I have to squeeze the bags and sniff the fragrance that's expelled through the little hole near the top. If I buy it in the store at all. Tracy-dear has said that she just feels dirty standing near Folgers. I can relate. Now that I've been ruined. Lucky for me, this gal actually fair-trade buys her own green beans, roasts them, and sells them through her etsy account, or out of her home. Oh, a little piece of heaven. (By the way, she's on a 5800 mile roadtrip right now, but I've sure there will be more coffee listed upon her return.)
I did realize something, though. Over the last few years, I think I've actually been drinking less coffee. I go to the microwave to heat meat for lunch, and there stands a cup of java sitting on the turntable, stone cold. "Oh, that's my coffee from this morning! I guess I forgot it was in there." I go to the microwave again to reheat my lunch because, really, everyone knows that moms eat standing up, walking around, and often forget about their food. Or is it just me? Again, coffee sits abandoned, stone cold. "Oh, that's my coffee from this morning! I guess I forgot it was in there."
At night I sit down to the computer...and guess what's next to the keyboard, stonecold? "Oh, that's my coffee from this morning!"
Apparently, I've been reheating the same cup of coffee since I had children. No wonder the Colombians have turned to marijuana as their primary export crop.
Do me a favor: If you call or email me, ask where my coffee is!!
And a tip. If you want some truly amazing coffee, I've heard this will hit the spot. I just may have to place an order!!