Location: Home, Orono
When: January 25, 2005, 6:30 am
Present: just me
Coffee: Port City Coffee Roasters Indian Malabar
Mood: exhausted, yet happy
I'd had the Port City on Monday, but it didn't really count. Then it was just self-medication, pumping it into my body in a desperate attempt to stave of sleep as I headed down I-95. Today, however, was a different story. I was still exhausted, but Owen was driving today. I'd gotten a decent night's sleep and for the first time in too many days I was able to sit and sip and enjoy.
Oh, the Port City... dear Sister, I don't feel bad about chastizing your Market Basket coffee when, not ten minutes from your house you have Port City! Call me a snob, but we just can't get coffee this good around here. It is a delight to so many senses. Just opening the bag and breathing it in is a treat. Then the beans, glossy from their own oils. The name of the coffee was Indian Malabar. I don't know much about Malabar, but the coffee itself was like those dance scenes in Bollywood cinema, where everyone is costumed and happy and bouncing. The coffee has that kind of energy, kinetic and romantic and happy. A wonderful way to start the day!