Secret Society of Caffeine Junkies

I am currently drinking a cup of coffee. It's amazing, all I did was boil water and pour it over a pile of grounds... wait... press... pour. Anyone can boil water, and both of my kids learned to pour when they were wee tots. So why does some coffee suck, and other coffee provide a sensation of pure elation? That, my friends, is the coveted secret of a very few: a society of caffeine-addicted elite so far under-ground that they don't even know they exist. Caffeine Junkees. But not the Mt. Dew slugging, Diet Coke chugging types. They are NOT allowed. (amateurs) No, the art of the perfect brew is a craft, an art, and one that Jay and I have perfected once... and now aim to perfect to the point of crema-induced enlightenment. That's right, we want to have our future patrons praying to the coffee gods, experiencing espresso nirvana.

We start... with a dream... and a roaster. (Screw the mortgage, one can live without a house. One can not live without good coffee.) We perused various options, including the Roaster in a Dryer option (which would make our clothing smell delicious- bonus), the BBQ Conversion Roaster, and the roaster made of a steel coffee mug and tinker toys. In the end, we realized the extension of our passion stopped at the edge of actual engineering. We opted for the counter-top model. It arrives Wednesday, and I am shaking with anticipation. Or maybe it's just caffeine withdrawal. Either way, its arrival marks the first step toward our master plan- a life completely centered in coffee.

Okay, just in case you think I'm borderline obsessed with little brown beans- Not exactly. I am in love with the coffee culture. I love standing behind the big, steel machine with a tamp in one hand and a bar-cloth in the other. I love making the perfect espresso macchiato for the customer that needs something to make his life worth living. I love the sound of frothing milk and the burn of a pitcher heated to a precise one-hundred-eighty degrees without a thermometer. I love mocking the people who spell espresso with an “x,” but only behind their backs because saying it out loud would be rude. I am a barista at heart. I gravitate toward like some people are gravitated toward water.

But wait, there's more! I want to provide a place for people to gather, to feel welcomed, to hang out a talk, to play their guitar and read their poetry. I imagine a cool, funky, eclectic shop with big leather couches and a checker board painted on one of the wooden tables. Chailyn would have a hand in all the baking... because his desire has been (for several years running) to be a pastry chef... and judging by his chocolate death pie (handed down from father to son), he's doin' all right! Kayden could spin her organic cotton candy in the certified kitchen, re-branding it “Sugar Buzz.” It would give us something to work toward as a family, together. As a home schooling family, it is the perfect platform for learning about life, about economics, about work and money management. Chailyn voluntarily read a book called “Beat the Rat Race” last night, and gave me a run-down of assets and liabilities this afternoon. We also watched a video about coffee production, from plant to cup. They were fascinated.

While Jason gets roasting, the kids and I will be starting a tiny little windowsill hydroponic coffee farm. (No officer, those are coffea arabica plants. Like a cup o joe, Joe?) I seriously think it's the logical next step in the world of the caffeine junky. However, it takes three years to achieve a cherry. (These plants are nice Catholic girls.) In the meantime, the lovely process of growth and germination will provide us with excellent botany lessons! I also hope to plant some various potted tea herbs. Making our own delicious herbal-brews may also be on our horizon. Why do it if you're going to do it half-assed, right?

Okay, my buzz is wearing off so I'm having a hard time keeping my train of... Hey! If you want some of the freshest coffee you've ever had, come over some time next week! You can just follow the smell of bliss to our very secret location, deliver the super secret knock (rap-rap then come in), and bring your mug. We'll keep the buzz on for ya'. (Available for $10 a pound, with your own personalized label. How does a cup of Christie's InsMOMnia sound?)