On that coffee

I had a cup of Importin’ Joe’s Habesha coffee this morning, one of the two types I ordered, and as I was drinking it it occurred to me that I really don’t have any vocabulary for writing anything even approaching a review of a liquid. There is a little blurb on the front of the bag about what “tasting notes” to expect, and I’ll be honest: I picked up on the toffee, I guess, but other than that? It was coffee. It was good coffee, mind you, but I’m not a hundred percent sure how to go into detail about what the differences between “good coffee” and “bad coffee” are, other than that I’ve had Starbucks a couple of times and I understand what people mean when they say that Starbucks coffee tastes burnt. I have finally successfully conditioned myself to be able to drink my coffee black over the course of the last year, and so I didn’t put any additional sugar or creamer or anything like that into it. I’m not opposed to that or anything, but I figure since I can drink coffee black now I may as well drink my first few cups of this unadulterated so that I can learn what it tastes like. And yeah: it’s good stuff; I just wish I could be more elaborate than that.

What’s the best coffee you ever had? And can you tell me what made it the best coffee you ever had?

Actual conversation with my son

…who, remember, isn’t yet three.

SETTING:  The boy has just gotten up, and I’m getting him changed and dressed.

HIM:  Daddy, are you a teacher?

ME:  Yes.

HIM:  Why?

ME:  I have no idea.

HIM:  But you’re a teacher?

ME:  Yes.

(Several minutes pass; various early-morning toddler things happen.  I ponder the chain of events leading up to that question; I have never said the words “Daddy is a teacher” to my son, and I’m not sure he knows what the word means.  He decides he wants a chocolate graham cracker for breakfast, a request which is denied until other, more appropriately breakfasty foods are eaten.)

HIM:  Chocolate graham cracker!

ME:  No.

HIM:  But I want chocolate graham cracker!

ME:  No.  You can have a chocolate graham cracker once you eat some cereal or a squeeze pack.

HIM:  But I want chocolate graham cracker!

ME:  Kenny, do you remember asking me if I was a teacher a few minutes ago?

HIM:  Yes.

ME:  This means that I am used to disappointing children who want things, and that I don’t care even a little bit when I do it anymore.

(He contemplates this for a moment.)

HIM:  …I want raisins.


Made from scratch

Sunday is starting off right.


Screw the time change

It’s almost 11:00 and I don’t care.

So here’s a thing I learned today


If your first egg looks like the one on the right when you try to fry a couple of eggs, you should probably dump the pan and start over.  It’s not, as you think it might be, because you overcompensated for the last time you made fried eggs, when they looked beautiful and perfect and then were sticking to the pan.  You didn’t put too much cooking spray in; the fact that the pan has effectively no surface friction has nothing to do with this.  The egg’s bad.  Dump it and start over.

Trust me, please.

This has been an infinitefreetime public service announcement.