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I had my first cup of coffee a little while ago. The degree to which I crave and enjoy my coffee is really remarkable. It is such an astoundingly important part of the healing process through which I have gone.

The ability to make my coffee gives such an immense pleasure, both gustatory and emotional (along with my ability to once again drive) remains remarkable to me. That having coffee is so important attests to the amazing pleasure it provides.
 
A morning where a pot (French Press, cerise in colour, French by manufacture - Le Creuset) of freshly ground Ethiopian coffee was made. (Coffee. Ethiopian. Hot.)

This morning's coffee came from two separate sources of Ethiopian Yirgacheffe coffee beans, in fact, the coffee came from two different roasters both of whom had sourced Yirgacheffe beans from small, local, artisan producers. I had fun grinding them, and used a blend of 50%-50%, as I love Yirgacheffe, and each of these coffees had come highly recommended.

One was a Yirgacheffe (Gersi Kebele) that came with a "washed process" (courtesy Sweet Bloom coffee roasters, Denver, Colarado) and the other is a Yirgacheffe that is "dried naturally on raised beds", and comes to me - courtesy of my lovely enthusiastic coffee shop (the 17th century building) from a roasting company that call themselves 'Five Elephant Coffee Roastery'. They hail from Berlin.

Both Yirgacheffes came from the same shop - the 17th century place - they are enthusiasts and are experimenting with sourcing coffee from some seriously good high quality roasters, and suppliers. Actually, I don't know what coffees they will have from week to week.

Anyway, the coffee is gorgeous. Clean, bright, clear notes, and a lovely smooth sweetness. Lovely.
 
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A morning where a pot (French Press, cerise in colour, French by manufacture - Le Creuset) of freshly ground Ethiopian coffee was made. (Coffee. Ethiopian. Hot.)

This morning's coffee came from two separate sources of Ethiopian Yirgacheffe coffee beans, in fact, the coffee came from two different roasters both of whom had sourced Yirgacheffe beans from small, local, artisan producers. I had fun grinding them, and used a blend of 50%-50%, as I love Yirgacheffe, and each of these coffees had come highly recommended.

One was a Yirgacheffe (Gersi Kebele) that came with a "washed process" (courtesy Sweet Bloom coffee roasters, Denver, Colarado) and the other is a Yirgacheffe that is "dried naturally on raised beds", and comes to me - courtesy of my lovely enthusiastic coffee shop (the 17th century building) from a roasting company that call themselves 'Five Elephant Coffee Roastery'. They hail from Berlin.

Both Yirgacheffes came from the same shop - the 17th century place - they are enthusiasts and are experimenting with sourcing coffee from some seriously good high quality roasters, and suppliers. Actually, I don't know what coffees they will have from week to week.

Anyway, the coffee is gorgeous. Clean, bright, clear notes, and a lovely smooth sweetness. Lovely.


Sounds like you have a great supplier.
 
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I think @Scepticalscribe has a great supplier for everything!
Beer, wine, cheese, meat and coffee of course.

Um, cough, yes. That seems to be how it works, yes.

(I think you forgot fish.....and bread...)

....And now, a cup (mug, actually, yes, Le Creuset) of "Coffee. Ethiopian. Hot" (well, a blend of Yirgacheffe beans, freshly ground) sits beside me. Lovely, clean, bright, clear notes, smooth and sweet, and just sublime.

In the kitchen, the grinder is ready and in place for when the substitute carer arrives presently, and the tins of Yirgacheffe beans close to hand. She likes her coffee, too.
 
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Coffee. Ethiopian. Hot

Elsewhere, I have written about how I had an lovely lunch with my friend, the cheesemonger, (in an award winning restaurant where we tend to lunch together a few times a year; today, I treated him, as he was feeling a bit low - a fire had damaged his premises, which has been shut for a month as a result).

Following that, I repaired to my favourite 17th century coffee shop, where I bought more Ethiopian coffee, and sipped a cup of lovely Colombian coffee (recommended by the staff) while sitting on cushions on the window sill upstairs, where, having rummaged among the collection of LPs, I put the LP "Atom Heart Mother' (by Pink Floyd) on the turntable of the splendid stereo - (and hugely enjoyed that sibilant hiss as the stylus needle landed on the already turning LP) - that sits in the massive 16th century stone fireplace.

Bliss it was to sit and listen to half remembered classics, sipping glorious coffee (and, while the music was great back then, the coffee most certainly was not).
 
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And now, sipping another cup of coffee from the Yirgacheffe highlands of Ethiopia.

I prepared two cups - mugs, in fact - of Ethiopian coffee - the substitute carer - who likes her coffee - had arrived, and also served some excellent French brown bread, some aged mature Gouda, aged Stilton, and a little Camembert on a wooden board. Delicious.
 
My pretty poor attempt at latte art....

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Nothing I'm good at doing, for sure, but inevitably it takes practice...

Well, it is a modern version of the old 'life is too short to peel and stuff mushrooms'; much though I love to attempt to acquire new skills, there are some that I will contentedly trot towards my grave never having attempted to master.

Instead, I am more than happy to leave this challenging art form to the experts and professionals, and will enthusiastically applaud their consummate skill as demonstrated in my cappuccino cup.
 
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