this blog had fomented evening plans including the consumption of the latest netflix installment, deep thoughts on the subject of pending panamanian goodness and perhaps shots from the long-neglected levered device.
alas, it is becoming evident that when innocent bystanders realize you’re the sort of blathering nutcase who would drop a C-note on three pounds of green coffee, they apparently surmise that you’re also up to any caffeinated task. this is pretty much true. thus, a brief encounter with a workplace superior who has an affinity for coffee foilage has left this blog in possession of a wee crop of home-grown coffee cherries and only a cursory clue as to how they should be steered toward eventual roasting.
as we fire up the browser, this blog somehow suspects it is going to have to learn about “de-muscilage” and other gruesome-sounding terms. to which this blog says: bring it on. we also thumb our noses in the face of others’ heady trips to origin. who needs ‘em, when you’ve got plump-ish cherries emanating from local living rooms? it’s like our own transcendent journey to source, but within the comfortable confines of suburbia!
UPDATE: and how, exactly, would you tell your boss that he had, ah, picked his cherries too early?