I’m someone who believes in eating breakfast regularly. As a child, I went through cycles of various cereals. I’d try one for a while, like it, and then get bored and move on to something new. In the past year, however, I’ve discovered a cereal so good that I have had no desire to switch brands. I don’t eat it every day (at least not for breakfast), but I do indulge it in frequently, even as a dessert.
The cereal name sounds rather random. It’s Nature’s Path Organic Pumpkin FlaxPlus Granola. I know it doesn’t sound that appealing, but I encourage everyone to give it a try. It’s got a great crispy texture, just the right amount of sweetness, and it appears to be relatively healthful as well, with plenty of Omega-3’s.
The best part about it is that Amazon both have this otherwise expensive cereal available in bulk quantities. I always have one or two extra boxes around.
I generally take it for granted that most people are coffee drinkers. After all, why would someone willingly deprive themselves of the rich, aromatic sensory experience that is Coffea arabica?
That’s what I thought: there’s no good reason.
Occasionally, however, I stumble across some misguided soul who claims they don’t like the taste of coffee. After staring at them blankly for a few seconds to ensure this isn’t a poorly formed attempt at humor, I begin the process of bringing them into the fold. The most common error that leads to the perception that coffee is distasteful is the exclusive consumption of low-quality coffee. Most people develop their love of the black beverage when they first have a high quality cup. It’s not an experience that needs to be repeated often, but serves to establish the synapse between the neuron representing “coffee” and the one representing “good” (for you neuroscientists out there, I’m over-simplifying…you get the idea). Thereafter, even mediocre coffee can trigger this same response. With seasoned aficionados like myself, even barely-drinkable coffee is tolerated because of the connection, however distant, with the memory of truly great coffee.
I can’t think of other examples of a beverage which has this effect. The obvious problem here is for those that never have had that good cup. To them, their coffee-good connection in the brain is underdeveloped. Given this limitation in neurological development, some might refer to these individuals as “retarded”, but I find that a little politically incorrect. I prefer to think of them having a “special need” – a need for a good cup of coffee!
If you encounter one of this individuals, please do your civic duty and make them a cup of high quality brew. If you are unable or unwilling to perform this duty, please notify a flight attendant…er…please find someone who can. Life is to short to be spent without an appreciation for coffee.
Customer: Do you have any snapper filets?
Fishmonger: No…well, we have these small whole snapper here.
Customer: No, no. Um, ok…how is the haki?
Fishmonger: The hake*? It’s pretty good.
Customer: Well, what does the haki taste like?
Fishmonger: Hake is kind of like cod. It’s a sweet white fish.
Customer: Would you say that the haki is better than the cod?
Fishmonger: It’s a matter of taste, sir.
Customer (to his wife, who is just arriving): Hon, do you think we should get the haki or the cod?
Fishmonger: It’s pronounced “hake”, sir. Hake.
Customer: Oh, sorry. I guess we’ll take the haki.
*rhyming with “rake”
Latte art: often attempted but rarely mastered. When the barista pours the milk of a cappuccino just so, it winds its way through the espresso, blooming into a silken flower almost too perfect to drink. This is what emerged this morning when I, in my semi-awake state, created my usual morning beverage. If I admire it any longer, it will grow cold and bitter so, after a brief photograph session, I sip it down and head off to work.
I have been working on my latte art for years now, often with limited success. As what I think is a beautiful rose is emerging, my wife looks over my shoulder and comments, ??????oh…a brussel sprout!?????? Such is the pain the struggling latte artist must endure. Still, I persevere, and every now and again, true perfection emerges.