CI equates juan francisco with strong narcotics!

January 23, 2007 – 7:56 pm

there comes a moment in the oozing afterlife of one’s bloody wisdom tooth sockets where the soporific bliss of oxycodone tablets begins to wane, and the surgeon-approved thresholds for chomping another pill have not yet, technically speaking, been met. it’s only been 30 minutes since the last one, say. or what you feel isn’t really “pain,” per se, but more like a banal discomfort in the sinus region caused by, oh, a clogged left nostril. you have a slight cold. and really, it’s not something you want to deal with on top of all those dangling mouth stitches and wagging gum flaps and roundish jowl inserts.

mixing narcotics and espresso has never looked better, in other words. at least, not without introducing wholly synthetic products to the cocktail … like red bull or drano. it is, i believe, this exact balance of controlled and uncontrolled substances — of good and evil — that one needs in bed. next thing you know, you’ve found the vim and vigor to stagger about, empty a stale grinder doser and cool down the e61 group head with a long flush. possibly, you take a long flush yourself. four or five attempts at respectable shottage later, you’ve got something good enough — non-offensive enough — to take the edge off that insipid rodent gnawing at your inner nose. and, you’ve put on some pants.

sushi, is how it turned out — this new, lugged-down the-volcano-by-hand el salvador that piles a musky coffee-flower aroma on top of dried apricot on top of … smoked salmon. or sushi. it was meaty but light, dried and spicy but fruity, like a sun-baked papaya splayed open on the hood of an original mini cooper. dusted with cinnamon.

it’s the narcotics talking again.

it turns out — totally coincidentally, of course — that sushi was the bloody-tooth-socket-friendly menu choice of the evening, which conjures no doubt a less than totally arm’s length relationship between this blog’s meal choices and its sensory descriptors regarding new coffee. but the mind-addling drugs and fever-like single-mindedness and mealy mouth interior and scant flavor options notwithstanding, i swear that it made the perfect complement for a night of surgery recuperation: cruise about town in the cypriot’s obscenely comfortable jaguar, gaze languidly at the colored sushi-bar light display, swish around some raw eel and caviar discs and wash it all down at the home bar with liquid meat o’ the sea — spiced with fruit and garnished with spice! or whatever.

in any case, this blog encourages you very strongly (between doses) to try this juan francisco project of a coffee. it’s dinner. it’s dessert. it’s perfect for all your gaping, half-stitched mouth-voids!