sacrilege in progress. somewhere off camera, the blogbrother is neglecting his backsplash-cleaning duties.
note to rich: mesmeralda, in espresso form, loves you best at a spookily charbuckian 204 degrees fahrenheit, in this blog’s humble estimation.
in the face of a swelling onslaught of dissent as to the loveliness of ‘lady ez’ in the portafilter, CI charges to her defense with all the breathy dispatch of a, well … don quixote lugging a saddle bag full of gs3s. indeed, this blog has carefully avoided providing definitive ez-as-’spro specifics until the world’s supply had long been consumed!
still: the cooler brew temps — i do a lot of single-origin in the 198 range — indeed produced a sort of desiccating mouthwash of lemon lozenge. in the middle range, more of a muddle. zest. cane sugar. fescue. however, when we terminate our long-honed water-flush routine just as 208 swoops down to 204, i get a lemon chocolate lily — heavy on the lemon, but still smooth and velvety underneath and uber-floral up until, oh, the following weekend.
sweeping, contradiction-nullifying caveat: we roasted our own, with hot air, bringing the gesha to a safe finish at which this blog has achieved a very high rate of SO succcess on its primary machine. does this mean we were brewing optimally? why, no. it means that this method — bringing the esmeralda to within a hair’s breadth of second crack, then downdosing and brewing hot — is enough to make the cypriot burble like a hobo with a croissant aux noisettes.