Forget it

Never buy a coffee maker from eBay if you need a maker RIGHT THIS INSTANT. As my new Mrs Tea takes her sweet time about coming (and I can't get made because I broke her predecessor) I have decided to take a coffee sabbatical. Going to Java Joz, no matter how cute the guy is, has caused me to gain weight. In my face. Instant coffee is too disgusting.

What's a girl to do? Coffee celibacy, I call it.

Desperation

My addiction is too strong and I broke down, rootled around in my pantry, and found

INSTANT COFFEE

I should probably be stoned, me, a gourmet coffee drinker, but desperate times call for desperate measures. However, if I do resort to Postum, you are free to track me down and shoot me on site.

Devprivation

It's amazing what people will do with their free time and no one looking over their shoulder. I consume coffee and cup. But since I am still maker-less, bean-less (althought I do have a grinder), and short on cash, I had to do with out my coffee. Just when I can cup and breath and consume with out the weird looks, I am deprived. I've had a caffeine (I spelled it correctly this time) headache since Sunday.

Or maybe it's a migrane.

Nothing to report

Just that.

It hath arrived...

Today, my Toastmaster coffee grinder finally came. I took it out of its box, smelled it, held it in my hands and dreamed of possibilities.

This morning, I stopped by Java Joz again, since I still don't have a working coffee maker. I went a different route, opting for a Raspberry Mocha. Java Joz has very good coffee. It's not overly sweet and you can taste the richness of the espresso. And the fact that it was served by the adonis with the flowing locks wasn't too shabby either. Once I have a functioning coffee maker, I'm going to miss ogling at the coffee guy regularly.

A nice, VERY NICE, alternative

Since my coffee maker is out of commission and I have decided to not purchase a new one but wait for another Mrs Tea, I had to run over to the local espresso hut for coffee. Usually, I am shy about ordering plain coffee and I take the opportunity of when I go to espresso huts to drink specialty coffees. I got myself a skinny latte, adulterated with gobs of caramel. But the thing I liked the most about my espresson hut was the drive-thru guy.

Normally, I like clean cut, Ryan Seacrest looking guys (with out the stubble). But when the drive-thru guy smiled at me, my heart began to race. Could it have been the long blonde hair? His wide smile? His tall figure? Either way, I don't mind my coffee maker being out of commission, as long as I can have a little bit of hunk with it.

You can almost always get an adequate cup of coffee at places like that. In my opinion at least. I was reading a review of the new McCafe by McDonald's and once again, I felt terribly ignorant of all things coffee. This nerdy gentleman can actually take an espresso and evaluate its quality (I don't quiet have the guts for that). He could probably taste the complexity of the bean of which my latte was made, despite it being so sweetened and creamed that you might as well be drinking coffee flavored hot chocolate.

I don't think I'll ever get to the point where I can be a purchaser for a large corp, so good is my palate. But perhaps someday I can appreciate coffee to the point where if someone asks me "Is that place any good?" I can give them an educated answer. I'll have earn my tortise shell rimmed glasses and cardigan then.

The caffine headache

First of all, I want to say, "Is that how you spell caffine?" If it's not, I'll correct my error in my next post.

My Mrs Tea has been protesting how much I've been using her. She got some grounds stuck in her drip hole -- how, I don't know. I was trying to make my ritual Sunday-Morning-Coffee-With-Mother when brown water and coffee grinds began to spill from the basket. I came to the rescue, dumped out the coffee, and prepared to give my Mrs Tea a bath. The mishap required a more thurough cleaning than just a wiping off and as I was delicately placing her in the sink, her lid fell off, hit the pot, and the handle broke off.

My mother ordered a new one from eBay. I also used up the last of my Mocha Java Blend in my failed pot. My Toastmaster grinder has not arrived.

No coffee today.

Let the caffine headache commence.

Oooh! That stings!

The more I research coffee, the more I realize that I know jack squat. I'm a college graduate though. That means that I can fake it well enough to sound passably smart. Like my post yesterday. It sounded intelligent, well researched (in my opinion, at least). However, the more I read on the topic, the more I realized how poorly researched I am. But, you always have to start somewhere, right?

I am determined to taste whatever the heck acidity is. I read that acidity is like wine being dry. Acidity gives it a crisp, sharp, bright flavor. I kept that in mind as a brewed another pot. I pulled my International Delight out of the fridge, and kept it handy for when I was ready for it. But I was determined to taste those notes.

I took a sip. Bitter. Ok, I need a bigger sip. A sip that will sit on the back of my tongue. There it is. Bright and crisp, right on the sides of my tongue. If cranberry juice tasted like coffee instead of cranberry juice, that is my Mocha Java Blend. Ok, not that dry. But, I could taste it. Now do I like it?

I like it better with my International Delight.

Getting high

As I brewed a pot this morning for my ritual Friday-Coffee-With-Mother, I made a terrible mistake. Before my Mrs Tea had finished dripping coffee into her pot, I poured myself and Mom a cup. Of course, I didn't know Mrs Tea hadn't finished brewing and it was only after she began to spill coffee onto the warming plate did I realize my error. Too late. I had already poured myself a cup.

I noticed something strange about my morning coffee. It had a sharp taste on the tongue. I poured in more of my International Delight to see if I could eliminate the taste. The butter pecan flavor managed conceal the note, but it was still there, ringing like a shrill bell. It then occured to me that incompletely brewed coffee had produced a sour flavor.

Sour is different than acid in that the sharpness, those high pitched notes in your coffee, produces an unpleasant taste. Some coffees have natural acidity, such as the Yemen Mocha. Acidity is dependant on a number of factors. Growth climates, coffee process, roasting, and brewing can influence the perceived acidity of a cup. My coffee, my Mocha Java blend, has a high amount of acidity, but incorrect brewing turned the acidity into sourness.

It wasn't until I tasted my sour coffee did I then note what acidity is. Those sharp, high notes on the sides of my tongue. Not too much. Acid coffee good. Sour coffee bad.

Black Coffee

Mocha Java: Day 3

My GERD is acting up this morning, robbing me of the true appreciation for my black Mocha Java blend. I brewed a pot, used filtered tap (I'm starting to think there is almost no difference between bottled and filtered in your cup) and then poured it into a fancy-schmancy mug that told me that Teachers Are Special. I've been contemplating getting true coffee cups, porceline with cute, little saucers, but my bank acount tells me that it's not a good idea. If there is a controlling force in my life, it is my account balance.

Mocha Java brews with almost no bitterness. I took in a mouthful and savored it for a full 10 seconds, feeling the weight on the back of my tongue, scenting the bouquet, enjoying the aftertaste. While ignoring the rumblings of my esophogus, I have come to this conclusion:

I know nothing about coffee.

But I can drink it black.

Coffee to go

It is day two of Mocha Java.

Because I was on the run this morning, I used filtered tap instead of bottled water, let it brew while I blew-dry my hair, and then poured the brew into my handy-dandy Nexium travel mug. The mug keeps the coffee warmer than a regular ceramic mug, so while I drove to work, I savored the blend in my mouth.

To be honest, this Mocha Jave blend tastes a little thin in my mouth. I would say that it is weak, but it has a very nice flavor. There is almost no bitterness to the cup and you can almost taste the aroma of the coffee. But, despite it being a full-bodied blend, I don't feel much heaviness on my tongue. Am I brewing it correctly? Did I measure wrong? Can I do anything right???

Sorry. I had a bad day at work. Maybe the caffine content of my journey makes me edgy.

Mocha Java

Last night, after my power yoga class, I stopped by The Coffee Bean And Tea Leaf to pick up some new grinds. Currently, I have to have the coffee ground for me, as I don't have a coffee grinder yet. I read that grinding the coffee yourself at home before you make each pot makes a better cup of coffee, but so far, I haven't tasted anything bad from my cups. I usually make about 15 oz of coffee and I just started using bottled water. Expensive... but the coffee is actually tasting pretty good. But let me tell you about my experience with The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf.

I walked in, sweaty and in my short-shorts, and asked the curly-haired 19-year-old at the counter for a half-pound of Mocha Java ground medium grind. For a drip coffee maker. The grinds influence a lot the taste of your cup. Too fine of grinds will produce bitter coffee and too coarse of grinds will make your coffee weak. I haven't really learned the difference yet but when Starbucks ground me 1/2lbs of Italian Roast, the coffee was so bitter it was hardly palatable. But I drank it because I didn't know the difference. Anyway, the young gent at the counter seemed to know what he was doing. Seemed. He asked me what kind of filters I used then informed me to pick my coffee from the rack. I then began to be a little suspicious as I thought my beans would be scooped for me, rather than me picking them out from the color of their bag as if I were at Stater Bros. or something. I then order my Iced Blended Lemon Zest, since I can't tolerate caffine after noon (some coffeesta I am!) and handed him my bag of Mocha Java, asking, once again, for a half-pound ground. This is where communication broke down...

Him: Are you buying the whole bag?

Me: I would like a half-pound ground.

Him: But are you buying the whole bag?

Me: I would like a half-pound ground.

Him: So you are buying this whole bag?

Me: I would like a half-pound ground.

I'm getting a little irritated, since I am dehydrated from my yoga class and would just like my grinds. I then ask if they sold beans at all or do I need to go to Starbucks. The kid pursed his lips and did a well-concealed eye roll. The manager comes up and says, "Yes, we sell beans." I wish I got a ma'am with that.



I get my grinds and am now experiencing the boldness of Mocha Java. Eh, tastes like every other cup to me. Mocha Java is a blend of Ethiopian and Java coffees. Ethiopian and Java are the oldest types of coffee you can get. They are like the granddaddy of coffee. If coffee were a New York socialite, coffee from Java and Ethiopia would be the old lady with the family diamonds who comes to the dinner party on the Upper East Side 2 hours late and just sits there at the head of the table, while the young-un's dish saucy and continue the tradition of snobbery. Well, I have half a pound of my rich and smooth Mocha Java, which compared to other coffees is meant to be full-bodied (I understand the body of coffee to be how thick it feels in your mouth), bright flavored, with a floral aroma. I'm sure I'll be able to experience all that once I get over my fear of coffee black and give up my International Delights. I should give up cream. I'm trying to be a vegan anyway.

I breath into my cup...

Journies... every life has one. Every one must go through one in order to become a greater person than they already are....

Okay, that is enough of me waxing philosophical. This is day one of my journey for the finest cup of coffee, the journey to conneseur-dom. My love for coffee began when I was 18 and my friend Kay and I would go down the street to the local coffee shop for lunch. We were chic, ordering iced mochas and turkey sandwiches. Our friendship began with those cups - isn't that what coffee drinking is all about?

However, after years of drinking girly commercial iced blended specialty coffee (and may Frappucinnos go to Hades), I dicovered the power of the bean, of the brew. My plane from Walla Walla, Washington gets canceled because of the snow and I have to bunk up in Terri's tiny studio apartment - a motel room reconverted is what it really was. She and I watched Friends and she introduced me to coffee. My first cup was an italian roast.

My eyes were opened and I longed for her coffee sophistication. However, it's been five months since my night with Terri, five months of fumbling with Don Fransisco, Folger's, and, shuddger, generic. It's only been recently that I have taken myself to purchasing beans from exotic locales, with Terri's words pulsating in the back of my mind. How could I have wasted so much time?

So, I am on a journey to find the perfect cup. Coffee is like wine, if you cherish it. But you must understand the cup, learn the cup, in order to really appreciate the cup. And I have set out to do that. With my Toastmaster grinder newly purchased from Amazon.com today and my Mrs Tea (I don't have a proper coffee maker but it's an added expense when I have something that does the exact same thing), I will take a journey, cup by cup, bean by bean, bag by bag, until I have found the perfect cup.