Those of you who know me and those who read this blog know how much I love coffee. I've developed a new addiction to the dark temptress--buying and drinking coffee elsewhere (title of a good book by the way). Every time I go out to run an errand, my car veers toward Panera or Starbucks where I'm forced to give up close to $4 for a tall mocha latte. Then I drink it on the run, usually while I'm driving home where I nuke it in a regular mug and add additional whip cream.
There was a time when I pooh-poohed designer coffee shops (heck, there was a time I drank tea) and preferred to brew my own selected brand. Drinking coffee in public isn't the same as drinking it in private. Call me a non-social coffee drinker, a true addict.
I grind my own beans, preferably Costa Rican, and prefer to use a melitta drip, although a french press is also nice and will suffice. To show you how crazy this has become, Marty and I (at my bidding) purchased an expensive coffeemaker on line. It grinds and produces one or two cups of perfect coffee. My friend Patty C. has one so we know it's true. Unfortunately it hasn't arrived and may be back-ordered. We're not the only ones desperate for the perfect fix.
I hope this shallow rant hasn't made you stop reading. There is a leukemia connection to all this. When I was being treated, hospital coffee tasted like burnt swill. Marty used to bring me good coffee from time to time, but never early in the morning. When I was having my transplants, Marty couldn't bring me anything from the outside world, including coffee. My attempts to convince the nazi nutritionist that I could safely brew my own fresh coffee every day were met with a smile and a polite no. Then there was the time when I was not in the hospital but coffee tasted bad to me, truly the bottom circle of hell.
I realize I've been pumping money into the economy by all my retail coffee shopping, but buying an expensive Italian coffee/espresso maker should qualify me for some TARP money. Hopefully, it will keep me off the streets and safely within my home enjoying nature's best liquid. I can live without my martinis, but never my black coffee.