Brent Spilled The Beans


Someone, we’ll call him “Joshua,” sent us beans for our new ( used ) coffee grinder.  We gave them a go.  Brent poured them in the hooba-joob.  It went a bit crazy so some beans escaped into the post-grind dispenser.  Don’t worry, we spent a few minutes herding the beans back to their paddock and we carried on.


Zelie was our barista today.  Sassy, so keep your order straight.  Don’t give her any lip.


First shot was great in taste, but needed more tweaking with the grind.  After a sip, we tipped it into the coffee ice cream bucket.  Great for coffee ice cream, not perfect for espresso shot drinking. Another tweak with the grind.


We really love the flavor.  Maybe because it’s from England.  Maybe because it was a gift.  But really, I think the coffee was genuinely lovely.

( partial eclipse of the shot )


Brent decided it was time to try a latte.  That’s when the crema really shined.  Perfect shot.


He’s a “flat white” man, but for the camera, he did a bit of froth.  A “flat white” is an Australian coffee for a person who doesn’t want all the sprinkles and froth.


Brent demonstrates his coffee art.  We never know what he’s going for.  It’s a mystery.


The final product often ends up as a scorpion or a Shmoo ( I’ll let you look that up ).  It’s like reading tea leaves.  Today was a Shmoo.


Latte sips and Cadbury chocolate, things are right in this world.  Thanks again, “Joshua!”


Ye Olde Yuppie Cup


Our hard water has done in another drip coffee pot. The Rowenta. She didn’t even get a name. But, girl, did she brew a nice cup. I’ve moved back to stove top coffee. After much trial-and-error, I’ve found the perfect cup for me. Even better is its price! My trusty white label Carrefour Discount totally failed. This coffee house black gold comes from a mass produced brand called Legal. The penultimate shelf on your way to the bottom, in the “expresso” section, you’ll find Le Cafe Bistrot Expresso by Legal. It’s pre-ground. Brew that up on the stove, froth your lait with a whisk in a pan and you will find yourself sitting in a Seattle cafe somewhere bitching about the weather.

To really stick the boot in, I like to dust off the Cafe Vivace cups of our Yuppie Years tm and serve suboptimal espresso after lunch.


Tosca could care less about the coffee problem solved and instead cools in the shade. We’ve had at least fours hours of warm after five months of cold. She acts like it’s a drought.


I’ve Seen Dudes Holding Lattes


Today, I’ve seen dude holding latte holding chainsaw ( I feel a Flickr group coming on ). We’re steadily chopping through Yukon. A paddock that has yet to meet the munch and crunch of the herd. Yukon could use some munching and crunching and wee and poo to get back to pasture. The herd has done wonders on some of the other paddocks that were desperately seeking Foosball er Cattle. It takes patience. It takes watching and waiting. It takes a belief that “less is more.”

Less makes rich pasture. Pasture for your tasty beef. We’re working on Yukon to cut back brambles and trees growing sideways. We chop to claim more earth for the grass that feeds the cows. And that requires fuel –
caffeine specifically – that the farmer’s wife offers to the man about the farm. He would be just fine drinking American drip, but his wife insists on a strong, poofy stove-top. If someone hands you a latte, “yes, thank you” is your only response. Then she snaps. Then she writes.

Starbuck is Dead

starbuck is dead

Oh I do loves me some strong coffee.  In America, we used to have this amazing machine that giveth some perfect espresso every morning.  It’s gone now as are my yuppie years (and we ponder what an aging yuppie will become.  A “Guppie”, geriatric-urban-professional?  A “Muppie”, maturing-urban-professional? ).  As we settle into peasant farming life, you really must arrange your caffeine consumption to match your economical means with your palette.  After much research involving (close your eyes Michael) instant coffee, stovetop espresso, “French” press and drip machine among other crazy concoctions, we settled on this combination:

–        drip coffee machine

–        cheapest Arabica “doux” you can find

There is a very cheap “robusta” you can buy, but WOO BOY, don’t go there.  Bitter.  Yuck.  Doux (pronounced “doo” and if it’s cheap you call it “disco doo”) is the entry point to great coffee.  I picked up the cheapest filter coffee pot I could find and here are the problems:

–        horrible fill trough

–        small heating plate, coffee gets cold

–        only makes ten cups.  If you have four kids and herd of cattle, you need a lot of coffee.  More than ten cups.

So I bought Starbuck.  She was a tall, orange, drink-a-water with a horrible logo.  We popped a little mermaid sticker that Lucy had laying around to cover her brand. Knowing her coffee would never achieve coffee mogul-dom, we called her Starbuck.  Her fill trough stills sucks, but oh she made the coffee fast, kept it warm and delivered a stellar cup every morning two pots at a time.  At one point, we didn’t trust her.  In haste, we replaced her with a crap filter machine and stuck her out in the rain.  The replacement turned out to be a cheap weekend fling.  With apologetic wipes and a used replacement carafe, we brought Starbuck back in to fulfill the job she was built to do.   And she delivered.  I cleaned her every Sunday.  But this Monday was different.  She didn’t complete her brew.  She pooped out.  She became fatiguée.  After four cups she stopped.  I tried to revive her with all I knew how.  Silence.  She was gone.

R.I.P. Starbuck.  We laughed.  We cried.  We kissed twenty bucks good-bye.

… and with good YouTubeWars ammunition, we solute you with this … if you can replace “red” with “orange” it’ll all fall into place