well beyond two weeks post-roast, this blog stuggles still to communicate to you the subtleties of lem butler’s competition espresso blend. heightening the mystery: a pragmatic decision to pull much of it with the lever machine at the studio of the bioluminescent cypriot, where a gaggle of the man’s indentured servants could weigh in.
as a basic rule of thumb, if the spro was mushroomy on the home bar, it turned loamy mushroom when levered. flitting hints of wintergreen became a minty high note, etc. overall, though, the descriptors (which have so far appeared in the evolving space to the right) failed to ascertain what it was we were tasting. a quick seance with the flavor wheel turned up a staggering range of possibilities, from sweet basil to barley to honey to camphor. rosewood syrup was suggested. byronic struggles ensued.
this should, of course, be a beefy warning that last-resort, amateurish chandler burr-ism was in danger of taking effect. indeed, with studio resin addling our brains, this blog ultimately concluded that lem’s “alter ego” tasted preeminently like, well:
new leather dress shoes in a malt custard dip, drizzled with red currant compote.
less-schooled palates in the immediate environs had a more basic impression: cooked cabbage.