Coffee

[Mr-K]

... Do we have the same grandfather?

(Both of my 87 year old grandfathers have dementia and have since stopped drinking black coffee and being general badasses)

[YellerDog]

And your 77 year old grandfathers? What of those gay old gentlemen?


edit: Fucking hell, worst cup of studio coffee ever this morning. I think they are taunting us.

[Mr-K]

Fuckin queers is what they are.

[YellerDog]

They don't need grandson's approval.

[stormy]

Okay, so I went back to that coffee place that has the Clover on Sunday. I tried another cup, and this time I was blown away. I got a cup of their dark roast, "El Diablo" (I'm pretty sure they use intelligentsia beans), and it was really rich, without a hint of bitterness. It was probably the smoothest "dark roast" coffee I've ever had.

How much do they charge you? At Intelligentsia it's like $4 a cup.

[Tones]

It depends on where it's from. The coffee from Ethiopia was $3.50/cup, while the blends from South/Central America were either $2.50 or $3.00.

[stormy]

I'm trying cold brewing tonight for the first time with some spare Dunkin Donuts coffee I got according to this recipe. It's got to sit over night tonight and tomorrow I should have some delicious iced coffee.

edit - It didn't work well. The guide said I should get a concentrate to use in ratio of 1/4 to 1/6 water and/or milk. I started with 1/2 to see where I was at, and even at that low dilution there is just not enough flavor. It's not just watery, but it's also DULL. Bah!

[stormy]

I blew some of my Christmas money on an espresso grinder. I ordered last night, so I won't have it for a week or so. Can't wait to get it. I'm hoping for loads and loads of crema. I've only been getting a thin layer of it using my preground beans.

[Lobo]

Coffee is brewed, black, liquid sex. I love it. I probably drink half a pot...



I just got back from making a half-pot of coffee. I just stopped typing and went to the kitchen, and started brewing, totally on caffeinated autopilot. I literally couldn't describe my love for coffee without the sweet fluid dancing in my veins.

I drink around half a pot in the morning, before I do whatever it is I'm doing that day. Usually another half pot sometime throughout the work day. Black. Always black. Usually extra dark French Roast. Locally roasted and ground solely by me. So black that even The Ultimate Badass, Black Adam would emit a slight whimper.

Then at night, it's all about the coffee shops, the land of the Americano. Grande triple Americano, that is. Usually from Cup A Joe, right down the street from me in Raleigh, NC. It's a smokey, punk rock sort of place where they roast their own beans and scare yuppies, a good coffee shop. I love a good coffee shop. They are to me, what I can only assume a church would be to others. But better. Me and my like-minded heathen pack of design school hipsters frequent them either in frantic runs pre-presentation, or stake them out the night after to chill and reflect. For all that is good in the world, take your favorite book of the moment or a friend thats only half-dumb and worth talking to down to a really slick little independent coffee shop and live it up. Most of my favorite recent memories were brewed there, fueled by the sweet black nectar.

[Josh]

I just had six Pocket Coffee™ candies and I am ready to fucking tear the roof off this motherfucker ok. fuck.