<p>Ahhh, coffee and freshly baked pastries in Paris and Saint Petersburg! I want to go back! Whaaaaa! I want to know why coffee tastes so good in Europe!</p>
<p>When I was in Italy in college, cappucino was the equivalent of 8 cents (50 lire when the exchange rate was 625/1). Sorry, nothing has been as good since.
I would agree that croissants in Paris are the best!</p>
<p>My favorite coffee is Kona, even over Jamaican Blue Mountain.</p>
<p>And of course, the coffee my wonderful husband makes!</p>
<p>Now we are talking… my favorite coffee (ignoring the price tag) is Kona Blue Sky Kona coffee - Peaberry, Dark Roast… A cup of that and a Ghiradelli (sp?) chocolate chip brownie (kinda gooey) and I am done…</p>
<p>:: makes iced coffee ::</p>
<p>It’s hot here today – Code Orange air quality, humid, mid 90s. Time for iced coffee!</p>
<p>Thanks, Owlice. I brought chicken salad sandwiches on seedless rye and the chicken salad is made with seedless grapes. Maybe later I’ll the coffee
ice cream, hot fudge and Kahlua combo.</p>
<p>Morning All,
It’s still foggy at work this morning–not good iced coffee weather! The Peet’s is quite good this morning. I have to admit I’ve never had the Jamaican Blue, but my sister swears by Sumatran.</p>
<p>It’s hot and muggy here like you remember from your childhood summers.</p>
<p>Ahh…. Coffee…</p>
<p>I’m just finishing my third (fourth? fifth?) cup of No Name instant, mixed with water straight from the tap. What can I say? When it comes to my morning and afternoon coffee, I’m impatient.</p>
<p>Most nostalgic coffee memories: My mother and her father craved coffee. My grandfather forbade my grandmother to touch his stained-to-black, never-completely-empty coffee cup. My mother chewed coffee beans when she was pregnant with me. She drank several pots of coffee every day. I couldn’t stand the odor or flavor of coffee until I was a college student, and I finally forced myself to drink a cup of coffee while pulling my first all-nighter. Now I drink multiple cups of coffee every day, from a stained-to-black, never-completely-empty coffee cup which members of my household are forbidden to touch. </p>
<p>Most shocking coffee moment: I invited a college campus summer job coworker of mine to join me and my two roommates for an after-work game of canasta at our off-campus apartment. It was my coworker’s first visit to our apartment, where I had a freshly-brewed pot of coffee waiting. My jaw dropped as he poured the entire pot of coffee down the kitchen sink after seeing my can of ground coffee sitting on the kitchen counter rather than stored in the refrigerator. (The Horror!) He promptly went back to his own apartment (in the same building), and returned with his can of properly-refrigerated ground coffee. He made that night’s coffee. It was better than mine. Since then, I’ve always stored my ground coffee in the refrigerator.</p>
<p>Most frustrating coffee moment: I had recently moved to a new city, where I signed up for an early morning walking tour to see the sights. The several-hour tour concluded with a mass-transit ride to a little burg several miles south of the city, where a 10:00 AM continental breakfast was to be served at a “surprise” location (which turned out to be the campaign office of a local politician who “just happened” to drop by his office, and of course, conducted a “spontaneous” meet-and-greet). There was no coffee, because the health-nanny tour guides considered coffee to be “bad.” We disgruntled coffee drinkers quickly slipped away from Mr. Politician’s office, and fanned out on the burg’s main drag to find someplace–anyplace–which served coffee. It was a Sunday. All businesses were closed except for a gas station mini-mart with coffee that tasted like brown water. (It was delicious.)</p>
<p>Most challenging coffee moment: It was my first summer in the new city. I was running errands at a shopping mall on a very hot day, and I needed a cool drink. I approached the nearest food court vendor. Me: “Iced coffee, please.” Counterguy: “What’s that?” Me: “Coffee with ice in it.” Counterguy: “Uh… I’ve never heard of that. Let me ask… Hey, Joe! Do we have iced coffee?” Joe: “What’s that?” Counterguy: “Coffee with ice in it.” Joe: “I’ve never heard of that.” Counterguy (to me): “Sorry, we don’t have iced coffee.” Me: “Do you have iced tea?” Counterguy: “Yes. What size do you want?” Me: “I don’t want iced tea; I want iced coffee.” Counterguy: “We don’t have iced coffee.” Me: “Can you pour some coffee into a big cup with ice, like you do when you make iced tea?” Counterguy: “The iced tea comes out of a machine.” Me: Okay. “I’ll take one medium coffee, and one big cup of ice.” Counterguy: “One coffee. One ice water.” Me: “Not ice water. Just ice.” Counterguy: “Just ice?” Me: “Just ice.” Counterguy: “Uh… okay.” Transaction complete, I took my coffee and my ice, sat down at a nearby food court table, and proceeded to mix my own iced coffee while the counterguy and his manager mumbled to each other and openly stared at me as though I was concocting poison. From that point on, if I didn’t see iced coffee on a menu, I simply ordered a cup of coffee and a big cup of ice, and if the counterperson/server seemed perplexed, I’d explain, “I’m in a hurry, and I have to drink my coffee fast.” Problem solved.</p>
<p>Most enlightening coffee moment: While living in my (no longer new) city, I became acquainted with a fellow public transit rider who told me that she used to work in a Name Brand Coffee factory in her former home state. She said that her factory “was so clean, you could eat off the floor,” and she also said that she continued to drink only Name Brand Coffee, “because it doesn’t have rat hair, bugs, and dirt, like the Other Brand coffees.” I figured that after having worked in a Name Brand Coffee factory, she knew what she was talking about. I switched to Name Brand Coffee. </p>
<p>Funniest coffee moment: My daughter and I saw *The Bucket List<a href=“2007”>/i</a> with a companion. During the bittersweet scene in which encyclopedic-minded auto mechanic, Carter Chambers (Morgan Freeman), finally reveals his long-held secret knowledge about the pricey imported coffee preferred by his new best friend, “recovering snob” hospital owner Edward Cole (Jack Nicholson), my daughter and I suddenly recognized the name of the coffee… Kopi Luwak. We knew exactly what was coming, but our companion didn’t have a clue. As the scene unfolded, our companion suddenly blurted–at top volume–“Eeewwww!!! Gross!!!” Heads turned, and other audience members started giggling… at our companion. My daughter and I practically fell out of our seats laughing.</p>
<p>Please pass the (iced) coffee; hold the rat hair, bugs, and dirt.</p>
<p>Your story about trying to get iced coffee sounds a lot like Jack Nicholson trying to get plain toast in a movie (was it 5 Easy Pieces?) And sorry, even though I’ve lived in Asia, I don’t recognize “Kopi Luwak”–can you clue us in?
Loved your stories!</p>
<p>To Kathyc: I’m glad you liked the stories.</p>
<p>More than twenty minutes after posting, I remembered one more:</p>
<p>While I was in grad school, I worked part-time in the office of one of my school’s companion departments. The office had a well-used electric coffeemaker placed on a cart in the hallway running alongside the department’s reception desk and back to some of the faculty offices. Our faculty drank so much coffee that it was hard for the department secretary to find time to clean the coffeemaker, because she always had to keep it filled with coffee. The coffeemaker eventually became so filthy that complaints about the coffee started rolling in. Very early one morning, well before our faculty usually started showing up for work, the secretary ran some manufacturer-recommended cleanser through the coffeemaker. According to directions, she ran the hot cleanser-water through the still-filthy coffeemaker a second time, which produced a dark brown pot of what looked like coffee. As we office staffers got busy, one of our senior professors, an older gentleman with impeccable native German manners, unexpectedly arrived for work earlier than usual. We didn’t see him walk in, stop to get a cup of “coffee,” and then walk back to his office. However, we soon heard his soft, “Excuse me, but this coffee tastes… unusual. Are you buying a… different kind?” The secretary gasped, “Did you drink that?” The professor replied, “Well… yes.” The secretary shrieked, “That’s not coffee! That’s cleanser!” The professor blanched, began gagging, and fled from the office. The department chair and his administrative assistant heard the commotion, and came out to see what was going on. “Dr. So-and-So just drank cleanser! He thought it was coffee! I think he’s in the bathroom!” the secretary screamed. The department chair headed for the bathroom, where he assumed he’d find his colleague writhing in fatal agony, if not already dead. Meanwhile, the secretary, the administrative assistant, another student assistant, and I debated what to do next. Should we call campus security? Should we call the police? Should we call an ambulance? Meanwhile, more faculty members arrived to hear the news that their esteemed colleague had just consumed “a cup of cleanser.” As chaos reigned, our most level-headed faculty member quietly asked to see the cleanser package, carefully read the ingredients, and then calmly proclaimed, “It’s non-toxic; it might taste bad, but it won’t kill him.” A little while later, the department chair returned with the still-shaken professor in tow. We learned that the professor had taken just one sip of “coffee.” The professor learned that the coffeemaker cleanser was non-toxic. The professor declined a ride to the doctor or a ride home, thanked everyone for their concern, and walked back to his office with as much of his usual dignity as he could muster. (He started bringing his own thermos of homemade coffee to work with him after that.)</p>
<p>Regarding Kopi Luwak: Read about it on Wikipedia. (I don’t want to spoil your or anyone else’s surprise.)</p>
<p>Well, just as your companion said, TC – “Eeewwww!!! Gross!!!” </p>
<p>Otherwise, great stories!</p>
<p>I was searching for ice coffee this afternoon and couldn’t find any! It’s 90+ degrees out, and no coffee shop considered adding ice to their coffee?!</p>
<p>Hi Time Cruncher,
Co-incidentally, I just happened to read an article about the Kopi Luwak about 20 minutes ago. “Gross” is about the kindest word I can thing of! Why did anyone ever start using that?
You certainly lead an interesting life–I don’t have any stories like that!
And Corranged, we need to start a campaign for iced coffee!</p>
<p>To CBBBlinker: Glad you liked the stories. My daughter read and enjoyed them, too.</p>
<p>To corranged: Have plenty of money handy if you find your iced coffee at Starbucks. A friend of mine was recently charged seventy cents more for iced coffee than for the same sized cup of hot coffee!</p>
<p>To Kathyc: Interesting stories… I got a million of 'em. If you think Kopi Luwak is gross, grab your safety goggles and check out Casu Marzu, an Italian cheese banned in Italy (as well as in the rest of the EU).</p>
<p>I could have lived the rest of my years without knowing about Casu Marzu. Blech!!!</p>
<p>Has anyone seen the recipe for cold brewed iced coffee that was in the NY Times magazine last year? Made with Luzianne coffee w/ chicory and steeped for at least 12 hours, about 1/2 a can to 5 cups of water then strained and about 1/4 c. coffee “syrup” added to an ice filled glass with 12 oz. milk, it is absolutely addictive and MUCH cheaper than any you can buy at a coffee shop. So good that I drank it all winter and my friends and their offspring are also into it. I’m sorry my local supermarket no longer carries Luzianne so now I buy it by mail order. I also buy a brand called French Market. Just using ground chicory with regular coffee is not the same.</p>
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<p>Unfortunately, it seems that you had the bad luck of not only meeting a coffee snob, but a misinformed one with the social skills of a manatee to boot. </p>
<p>While there are open discussions about storing green or roasted beans in the freezer, there is a little doubt that the enemies of good coffee are air, light, and … humidity. What do you think is the best place to infuse your coffee with moisture and all kind of unwanted flavors and scents?</p>
<p>To xiggi: All the manatees I’ve ever known have been perfect ladies and gentlemen. (Funny image, xiggi; I like it!)</p>
<p>My coworker was the first person I knew who kept coffee in the refrigerator. I recall him saying that he learned this from his parents–possibly because his father learned it from his native Puerto Rican parents. (Puerto Rico is hot and humid year-round.) I was living in Philadelphia–with its hot and humid summers–at the time, so my coffee was probably exposed to less humidity in the refrigerator than on the kitchen counter. While renting that summer sublet, I quickly learned that unrefrigerated perishables went rotten, rancid, and moldy quickly, so my refrigerator was packed with all sorts of foods (including butter!) my Snowbelt parents and grandparents never bothered to refrigerate.</p>
<p>I remember sitting in the shopping cart kiddie seat while watching my mother use the Eight O’Clock coffee bean grinder at the grocery store. (That fun ended when she switched to pre-ground canned Maxwell House.) I also remember my first visit to New York City as a college freshman, when I learned that Chock full o’Nuts was a restaurant chain, not just a coffee brand. Starbucks’ and other nationwide chain coffee has never thrilled me; it always tastes “off.” I hate unnaturally flavored coffees, including hot toddy-style coffee drinks. My all-time favorite coffee is Farmer Brothers 100% Arabica Dark Roast (the best perk of a hotel stay, second only to a bed softer than the floor).</p>
<p>I’ve always preferred coffee made in an old-fashioned, metal three-section, stove-top drip pot (the kind I can’t find anymore except in thrift ships and at yard sales). I’ve never liked electric coffeemaker coffee, and now that I’m older, coffeemaker coffee tastes increasingly bad, and it usually upsets my stomach. I have a coffeemaker available for family and friends, but I stick to instant. I prefer Taster’s Choice 100% Colombian, but instant coffee prices have soared into the stratosphere, so now I buy whatever’s on sale. </p>
<p>Here’s something interesting: My daughter read on the Internet that (nitrogen-rich) coffee grounds make good plant mulch. She told me this after I saw her “watering” her houseplants with a cup of room-temperature instant coffee, which she thought would work as well as coffee grounds. I don’t know if the instant did any good, but it didn’t seem to do any harm.</p>
<p>Great subject, coffee… I could go on and on.</p>
<p>My brother-in-law, an international businessman, always likes to impress us and ingratiate himself to the staff at ethnic restaurants by showing off his knowledge of their native country. We were having dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant and he was telling my kids about the cat dung coffee he enjoyed in Vietnam. When they expressed their skepticism, he called over the Vietnamese waitress to back him up. I was hysterical when she had no idea what he was talking about and told my kids “you know your uncle, he probably just made that up”.</p>