Maybe it’s the fault of my small-town redneck-hick upbringing, but I have a hard time taking any sort of connoisseurship seriously. I have always laughed at fancy descriptions of wines, and it seems even sillier for coffee. Coffee’s coffee, isn’t it? What kind of dope pays more than 75 cents for a cup of joe?
My parents fancied themselves gourmets, but when it came to coffee we were still a Maxwell House family. Freeze dried! Read the rest of this entry »
