Dancing with my bag

You remember that scene in Harold and Kumar go to Whitecastle, in which Kumar ( that dead dude from House) does a whole relationship montage with a giant bag of  the bubonic chronic?

 "you call this coffee?" Slap 

This is how I felt wheni got  my first sizable bag of beans via Fed Ex the other day. I got me some five pounds of the tanzanian blackburn estate shipped to me from Indiana. 

Mucis started playing and I saw myself taking the bag by the hands and running off into the field of daises somewhere where we could make sweet, sweet love. It will be all playful tickles and ass  grabs at first, then the affair will heat up ( if you know what I mean). Soon I will be sharing her with friends, and not being able to stop myself I will end up finishing her off and then move onto another conquest. 

 

Those girls from Ipanema

We have all heard about those girls from Ipanema....

So when I saw that some Brazil Ipanema "Tree Dry Process "was avialable from SM, I just had to jump on the opportunity to taste little something saucy, sexy region.  Being seduced by the name, I actually went ahead and bought two elbows, so that I could explore this Ipaneman beauty to full extant and really get to know her ins and outs

 

Actually, I ended up buying the same bean twice , not realizing that the first one was  Tree Dry Process also. I should probably be taking better notes, or at least lay off the "hippy speed balls" in the morning so as to not make this mistake again.  If my mind was a bit clearer and my memory not just a pile of swiss cheese, I would not have wasted my time buying this bean again. 

While the girls from Ipanema may be creatures worthy of song, the beans of Ipanema hardly seem deserving of faint whistle. I might be willing to throw a little hum jobby at them, but really these beans are kind of blase. 

 This dull Choco-chalky robustness does do better when mixed with a wild child like the Ethipoian Kambata making for a fine Moka Java thing, but it does not do well alone. 

Then again, It just may be that I do not know how to handle this little creature from Ipanema. While my little Nesco does not do well when I want to go dark, I decided to crank it up a notch and bring this latest  batch to full French mode. Perhaps this little Ipanema will final open herself to me and give me pleasure. 

I will let you know....  

Using a (chaff) cup

The games I like to play are dirty, messy and dangerous, which is why I like to use a special cup like this one here.... 

It is great at collecting all the messy leavings that can come with certain bean types that are into the act of "chaffing" while roasting. Okay, most beans do chaff a little as they start to get all heated up, but some really chaff, sending out copius amounts of the flaky brown particulates. These beauties can get quite messy, making you feel like a jizz mopperat the Lusty Lady.  

 

This little puppy performs a vital role in collecting the chaff, which are little pieces of husk that fall off during the roasting process. The screen on the right sits on top of the little metal cup and the whole device is inserted into the top of the glass roasting chamber (not pictured). After roasting the beans, the roaster kicks in a "cooling off cycle" which increase the air flow, allowing the chaff to float up through the gashes in the cup which serves as sort of a diaphragm for the steamy, agitated beans. 

I got a hot and steamy video of the whole process which is available for the sexy low price of 19.95. Just make a check out to BSRiter then go here...

Ah, crap wait a minute, how the hell am I going stop you from just clicking on the link without cutting me a check?\, I guess the am going to have to hold my readers to auspices the honor system. If it is good enough for the museum of local folkart, it is good enough for me. 

Fresh Ass

When it comes to coffee, freshness is the key. The longer that bean sits around after it has been roasted, the shittier the coffee is going to taste. Now, if you roast it in a big factory, grind it up and then stick in a can on a shelf, the drink you get is going to be a gritty bitter, muddy mess that not even worthy for the lips of a desperate trucker needing a bit of the go go juice to make it to Chatanooga with his pay load. 

Even when left whole, coffee beans tend to peak in flavor after two to three days of being roasted. These succulent young nymphettes blossom quickly, becoming desperate old ladies with too many cats, all in a weeks time. Even in a airtight plastic or metal prison, time is a factor when it comes to taste. 

When I had my first real taste of freshly roasted coffee, my tastebuds unleashed a huge, orgasmic wave of pleasure towards my mendula umblagutta. A shotgun blast of taste propelled me unto a completely different plane of coffeelocity. I place and taste that I did not even know to exist even after my decade long journey into the world of Araby Wine.   

 I had seen the light my brothers.

I had seen the light and knew that I must tell others.  

my little pleasure dome

tucked away in the furthest recess of my kitchen lies my little lab of pleasure, where I craft and cook, measure, and vacuum suck. I keep my victims tucked away in a secret panel to the left, where they wait in darkness until I take them out and slowly savor them. 

Some go fast, their essence absorbed by me and my kin, while others linger, slowly being metered out for whatever reason their cruel master seems fit. Some just bore me and sit in the darkness until I have nothing else to derive pleasure from.  Others... 

Well,

Others I am slowly savoring, not knowing when another blue moon may arise, and such succulent seductive goodness may be once again available.