I'm in Mt. Vernon, IL tonight (where the Midwest becomes the South,
halfway from Chicago to Memphis, my ultimate destination for the Folk
Alliance conference all this week) at a nice suite hotel. Was a
roasting fool all weekend--kept that Behmor cranking, with IMV (this
batch smells like strawberry jam and spiced wine), the rest of my El
Salvador COE, ditto my Yemen Mokha Sana'ani (no way my Sumatraholic
husband & son are getting their mitts on that one) and Guat. Huehue
Decaf. Found about 1/8 lb. leftover Tanzanian Meru, so that gets
brewed tomorrow morning. I left the boys back home with 1/4 lb.
Sumatra Organic Gay Mt. (roasted last wk), 3/4 lb. IMV (hope they
appreciate it), and 1 lb. Aged Sumatra. That ought to hold them till
the weekend, when my son will be in NC with his improv troupe and my
husband will be off from work, doing kitty-wrangling and basketball-
watching duty. If he runs out, he intends to raid his latest brick of
Bustelo and use the electric moka pot. Ate late lunch (had 2 c. IMV
and a cappa before leaving home) at a little cafe in Arcola renowned
for its home cooking and good trucker coffee. IMHO, the coffee tasted
like ashes. We get free hot breakfast and there are airpots of coffee
in the lobby--but it's the same Royal Cup drek as in the little filter
bags of sawdust next to the in-room coffeemaker. Yecch.
Conoissseurship can be its own particular hell.....
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