While visiting America I remembered why I love coffee. At Cherry Street Coffee in downtown Olympia I observed the barrister lovingly pour water over freshly ground African coffee and intricate, complex, delicious coffee resulted.
In reverie I thought about the excellent coffee beans that are produced in my backyard and, in contrast, the pre-ground monotone sludge I drink every morning.
It's a challenge because great coffee is rarely for sale here. It's available, yes, but difficult to find in whole bean.
I obtained a coffee grinder, a ceramic cone dripper, and started with some beans from the Jansen Family in Volcan, Chiriqui. I quit adding milk to my coffee so I could experience the full flavors.
It's a ritual. An experience. A pursuit. Melodramatic? Maybe. But everyone has hobbies.
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