Tag Archives: Starbucks

OAITW Coffee Challenge

Alas, another Thanksgiving has come and gone. 364 days to my next favorite holiday of the year. Sadness.

I’m declaring victory on the 2011 edition of Thanksgiving. Couple reasons; first of all, I’m starting a new tradition. I’m taking the entire Thanksgiving week of from now on. It was soo soothing and since, thanks to the CPAP and insecurities and pains in the asses I’m never travelling again, I believe that a “staycation” Thanksgiving week is 100% better than one any other week of the year. Feels right to hunker down.

I hafta say, I really enjoyed the week with the college kid home. It’s been really cool to listen to him talk about what’s next for him, which BTW is grad school. I’m also really excited to see that he’s started drinking coffee. Mrs S does not and because of that, I’ve never really trusted her, at least not 100%. There are those that drink G-d’s precious elixer  and there are the “others”. We did have a little conversation about it. I made a pot, he helped himself, his mother was a little shocked, maybe just the very slightest twinge of disappointment in her voice. The “others” don’t like to see their kind reach the enlightened state of “Coffee Achiever”.

“This is great coffee Dad.” Tear in my eye. “Better than we make.” “What do you make?” “Folgers, we bought a 10lb can and have been using it all semester.”

Son son son.. “Coffee needs to be fresh dude.. a 10lb can will never be fresh.

He commented that he doesn’t drink every day, just once in a while.

“OMG.. Son you’re totally missing the point. You simply have to drink 2 or 3 cups every day. That’s the only way you can become dependent on caffeine.”

Quizzical look from all family members.

“If you aren’t totally addicted to it you will never experience the sheer joy which that first hit, or um sip, a really good cup of coffee provides.” Its better than.. and I left that part out because Mrs S was sitting there and no sense providing her any more ideas, ‘cause showing up with steaming hot cup of coffee late at night is a poor substitute for.. on the other hand, we talking Blue Mountain?.. life is  so full of choices…

The kid wants to go to Trader Joes today to get some of that “good coffee”.

Here’s the deal on my relationship with the bean. Which isn’t bean by the way, it’s a fruit pit, but G-d what a great pit it is.

Here’s my coffee credentials- Out of college I went to work for Cost Plus Imports. At the time they were one of the few bulk, varietal coffee sellers around. Folks in San Francisco would line up for there beans. They were way ahead of their time, to bad they didn’t know what they had (See Starbucks). I learned a hell of a lot about coffee from them; tasting, quality, regions etc. It was a great experience. I also learned how to run a company into the ground, more observed than learned, but you get the idea.

Bottom line I love coffee more than probably any other food or beverage. Personally I like bolder flavors, big coffees… I like big red wines and strong smoky single malts too.

Regionally I tend to favor coffees from Africa. Kenyan, Ethiopian.. those coffees have stronger flavors than South American or Central American coffees. Indonesian coffees are some of my favorites as well.

The finest cup of coffee I’ve ever had, 100% Kona. Smooth as silk and full of flavor.

Note that roasting brings out the coffee flavor and has a everything to do with the bitterness or after taste. Roasting brings out the essential oils in the beans which is why dark roasted beans are shiny and a little greasy to the touch. I prefer darker roasts. Italian is the darkest, strong and somewhat bitter. Then espresso, followed by French, Vienna style.. and then your down the lighter brown roasts.

So, with that in mind, I’ve been doing some thinking and, since I like nothing better than serving you, my beloved readers with my opinions.. here’s a piece I’ve working on for a year. Didn’t mean to break it just yet, but the time seems right.

I give you the Old And In The Way coffee challenge.

Some notes- No flavored coffee here. No maple nut goodie, no vanilla caramel supreme.. I can’t stand any of them and I’m not sure I fully trust people who do drink them. Go big boy or go home.

There are to offerings here that are not 100% coffee. New Mexico Brewing companies Pinion Coffee and the Café Du’Monde Chicory. I don’t consider them “flavored” because they don’t have artificial flavor powder added.

I scored these coffees 1 to 5, 5 being the best on the following attributes I like if you don’t, write your own damned blog.

Open The Bag/Can Aroma- What’s the smell that greets when you crack open the coffee. I love that experience of a freshly opened bag. I used to put a table spoon of fresh coffee in my car ashtray to get that “coffee roaster” smell in my car.

Aroma- This is the aroma of the cup. Waking up to the smell of brewed coffee, a religious experience for me.

Color- I can’t stand a cup of coffee that looks like dish water. If you can see through it in a glass mug I’m pouring it down the drain. Gross. The darker and blacker the brew the better.

Coffee Flavor- The most important attribute- how good does it taste. How good it tastes to is more important that how good it tastes to you. Just say’n.

After Taste/Betterness- I don’t really like bitter coffees. Some, specifically mass market coffees seem to have that bitter after burn from high acidity. Part of that comes from the cheaper Robusta beans they use.

Value- Hey, if don’t have to spend $17.00 a pound why do it. I will spend my life looking or the balance of value and taste. See Maxwell House.. the best of the mass coffees.

The final score tells the story.

One note that I have to call out. I was not prepared for just how awful 8:00 Coffee was. This stuff comes from the people at Tata, who clearly are better consultants, integrators and car builders than coffee sellers. This was hands down the worst cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted

 

coffee challenge.

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Musing away the weekend

OK Fans, seriousness must be put aside for awhile. I’ve had a couple things on my mind that I wanted to blog about; they’ve all escaped me now. Old age.

 

I’m thinking the stress of the workplace, at least since January, has slowed down my creative ability (stop suggesting that I don’t have any, those words are hurtful). So I got nuth’n, which ironically is when I write the stuff I like best. Weird I know.

 

So what’s going on around the Casa Del Sankary?

 

We’re finally wrapping up the last of the checking account fiasco. As you may or may not know, the Sank family checking account was compromised recently; our numbers were stolen and imprinted on counterfeit checks. The perps cashed one check, disguised as a payroll check, at a Wal-Mart up in the far northern suburbs, where apparently we’re all so damn friendly that they don’t need ID to cash a check.

 

I thought everything was done on that deal, Mrs S filed the police reports, a whole ‘nutha f’n post to be honest. I’m not sure I understand the training that goes into Detective anymore. Lets just say that after meeting the guys, I’m not exactly sure how crimes in our town get solved. I wanted to meet with Horatio Caine, what I got was Wojeciehowicz. (Anyone get that reference?)

 

All was fine until we got a call this week from the Collections Department at Wal-Mart. They asked us to come in and clear the check. When I explained the situation and mentioned that the call was odd since Mrs S had talked to the store and they were aware of the deal, they suggested that if we could come in and clear the check we be free of future calls. They also suggested that this was our “problem” since the check was on our account and that we should be responsible for our account.

 

Holy cow did I have a ton of great suggestions to throw back to them, but simply responded with a gentle “blow me”, and a question as to how checks get cashed without ID at Wal-Mart?

 

We also got a call from the most hated utility in Wisconsin, our gas company, who fills the tank at the lake,  to tell us that “writing checks on a closed account stealing and we’d better clear this thing”.

 

Here’s the deal there sweetie.

 

Looking through her records she found a note that we had called to let them know of the situation, AND had paid the account with a new check from a new account. “well, my bank continues to try to cash the old check and I’m getting charged service fees, you’ll have to pay those because “we shouldn’t have to take the loss””. Actually, you should have too just to remind you f’n stupid you are, and since we told you all about this, you should call the bank and tell them to STOP submitting it, it’s never going to clear..

This woman was beyond lame.. she suggested that they might discontinue our account and remove their tank.


Really? For Free? Would you please, with out charging me your stupid fees? I would love nothing better than switch to someone else, And, as long as you have the truck out there, I bet my friends on Little Blake at Sidetrack would like their tank removed for free, can we do a two-fer? She hung up. Her boss called a few hours later and assured me that everything was taken care off and that we’re all good. “Can I still get the tank yanked for free?” Apparently not.

 

So that was fun.

 

What else? Took the middle kid driving again. I hate to say this, he flat out sucks at driving and I’m not sure we’re ever going to get to the point where I’m going to get comfortable enough to be in the car with him. My neck hurts from his clutch work, we owe the neighbors a new trash can, and as of this morning, have tire tracks across our lawn soft spring lawn. I’m trying to be constructive and positive, but I don’t see this working out so well.

 

I have a date!

August 22, 2009, we drop the oldest kid off to school at Michigan Tech. Waaaay up on the Upper Peninsula, in the middle of NO WHERE. When ever they say a place is “G-d’s Country” it means it’s beautiful, but a simple Starbucks isn’t to be found anywhere, which makes it a lot less beautiful to me.

 

Mother Nature, the wise and magnificent, has things pretty well figured out. You have kids; they’re born, you hug them (after all that nasty grey stuff has been wiped out by the nurse and no, I didn’t cut the cord because I didn’t go to medical school and I don’t get paid for that) and you wonder how could you ever part with this amazing little person. They grow up, become independent and it makes you a bit sad, but you see the spark of goodness that endears them to you and you help them become great little people and you wonder again, how will I ever be able to see them leave. I want to freeze time forever.

 

And then one day, you come home from the grocery store with a box of Drumsticks. A mixed box of 2 caramel, 2 chocolate, and 2 vanilla. A box you bought because you love drumsticks, especially the caramel ones, and they don’t sell caramel only, and even if they did you wife who hates all good things like caramel would complain reminding you again, that no good deed goes unpunished.. and I digress…

 

And you put the box in the freezer and go to the bathroom to unload the grande dark roast with an extra shot Starbucks that you drank at the store where you bought the drumsticks. Flush and wash, go back to the kitchen and see

On the counter

Two drumstick wrappers.

Two caramel drumstick wrappers

. And some little peanut chunks. And you lose your freak’n mind.

 

This is whole scene is especially curious because you thought no one was home. You thought no one was home because when you first walked in from the store you yelled upstairs “could I get some help unloading?” and no one responded.

 

Whilst you put away the groceries there was no response, But, in the 2 minutes it took to pee and wash my hands, some other member of the house beamed into the kitchen and devoured the ONLY THING in the bag you were excited about .

 

And then they beamed back out. The place was empty again. I went out to the garage where I found the girl and the oldest. They smelled of caramel. When I inquired about who ate all the drumsticks, I was informed “We left you the rest”.

It’s no secret that the only flavor I like is caramel. I whined a bit. And was told “But Father, I LIKE caramel, you should have bought two boxes if you wanted one”. Those are “my” drumsticks.

 

There’s a quote I like-

We are here on Earth for the good of others. What the others are here for, I don’t know. W.H. Auden

 

August 22. I’m now ready to put my progeny out in the world and move on with my life.

 

 

 

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