I used to drink two cups in the morning. Black.
Throughout the day I would have a pre meal cup and a post meal cup. A dessert espresso. I didn’t like chocolate covered coffee beans and still don’t. I do like coffee icecream. Flavored coffee is a cop out. Espresso isn’t
Why does this matter to me?
Other people are smokers, dedicated to their camel reds or menthols. I, however, used to be a coffee drinker. Devoted to Colombian fair trade beans or shade grown coffee. The Alta Gracia down at the Middlebury Market Cafe. Speeder and Earl’s Middlebury Blend at the Juice bar: “mild acidity, full body, notes of chocolate”
Yes. I could taste the difference.
I was the coffee equivalent of the chain smoker. By now you’ve probably noticed that this is written in the past tense, a story of a former coffee freak.
I can’t tell you what happened. I don’t know. I woke up one morning and released my normal cup of coffee from the dining hall vats. I couldn’t, however, bring myself to drink it. My stomach made it perfectly clear that this cup of coffee would not have safe passage to my “hello I’m awake” neurons.
I haven’t had a full cup of coffee in a month. I’m not strung out, but almost wish I was because it sucks to have broken this addiction. I can’t hold my own in cafes any longer. I feel banned from my comfort zone.
Comparison for emphasis- then and now:
Barsita: What can I get you?
Alex: double tall soy latte
Barista: what can i get you?
Alex: mint tea
Which sounds more polished? academic? frenzied yet chic?
Better put your money on the first one.