Coffee beans, to be exact.
(Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t name this blog ‘carcrashcoffee,’ or ‘coffeecrashgratitude’?)
Yes, I write about coffee, a lot. About the way it makes me feel. What I’m doing while I’m drinking it, which is usually enjoying life and taking a pause. How it tastes. Great coffee. What happens, due to coffee. Running on time and having a coffee (like it somehow made me early or something), or having coffee with a miniature figurine. It’s all here folks. And there is sooo much more to come, I assure you 😉
But one of the most amazing things about making your own coffee, at home, is that moment when you open up a new bag of beans.
How can I not stick my head in the bag and inhale deeply? It is a sensory experience of erotica, through the nose. The scent of it itself, makes you high on caffeine, and that’s without ingesting any of it.
The fresh bag of coffee I inhaled seductively today was from a local place we have already tried for beans, called Commonfolk Coffee. We are yet to eat there, but the place looks amazing. Industrial warehouse turned funky hipster café. I know, I know, EVERYONE is doing it. But when they are freshly roasting their own coffee, and proceeds are going towards a sustainable coffee making industry, it just puts them a par above any other dread-head recently turned barista.
The first bag we tried from there, the Progress Street blend, was not to our taste, at all. This one however, the Godfather blend (how can a name like that fail?) proved to be much better on my first try today, but the beans are probably a little mixed with the old ones, so we need a few coffees to go through the machine before we can accurately tell.
I think I can safely say, the scent of fresh coffee beans, can never, ever disappoint…