even i can admit it

some thing has gone terribly awry in my cup cupboard. rather, outside my cupboard.

where did all these mugs come from???

this many is just wrong. and yet only half my collection...

on the other hand, this is lovely capp. and under those other mugs are glorious shots awaiting more steamed milk.

but this is so very right.

monday

quite poorly foamed, i think it’s time to clean the machine which i should really learn how to do. especially since i spill so much coffee on it.

a.m. chai latte and then…

in the absence of rich delicious espresso, i remember the delights of chai – duh!

why foam never come out this good for coffee?

what-ho! special delivery at 3:30 pm it is the new coffee!

oh baby! baby's wrecker's roast

i was unimpressed with the smell of the beans, but the crema came out lovely (although machine was on all day so that may have helped) and the espresso on it’s own was yummy and nutty? fruity? tobaccoy? different tasting is the best i can determine. the addition of lousy foamed milk (kinda looks ok here thanks to my unskillful photo) in the graydon made it quite a tasty treat.

the preceding paragraph a taste of what i had originally intended for this site; not merely visuals of coffee, but actual notes on what i do and try in an effort to make a better cup of coffee. my best laid plans often require more of me than i am willing to give.

sad foam

i am bad at steaming milk. this is just disgraceful big bubbled scalded milk, but oddly delish. perhaps the perfect espresso to milk ratio? will make more in the graydon to verify.

scalded milk + big foam = good coffee?

i’m bad at math too.

almost like a diet

peanut butter on a carbohydrate with an americano. i could be on a diet, but really it’s just a lack of options. i have a hard time getting all of my things done in the morning in time for work, partly because i remotely log into my work computer to check email and process sales from the previous day which means breakfast usually falls by the wayside.

i find consolation in the fact that mornings were always difficult for me. i remember my mother trying to get me up for school and her plaintive cries that i would miss the bus and what would happen when i went off to college…

i didn’t take morning classes. that’s what happened in college.