On Tasting Coffee

A middle aged man walked into the shop a few days ago, struck up a conversation. I held back a bit at first, acting only mildly interested, waiting to see if he really wanted to talk coffee. Slowly he built up my trust and I launched into a diatribe on the brown-bean, from origins to processing to roast. My enthusiasm grew and our conversation became loud and animated. Soon he asked for a tasting. I pulled out a new Harrar--blueberried and medium bodied. Not perfect, a bit pungent, but definitely good and very interesting.

I poured him a small cup from the french press.

DISASTER

Before even smelling it he looked up at me:

"I'll need to try it with cream and sugar."

Yeah, good idea. And next time you're at a nice restaurant, ask for ketchup with your $50 steak. Truly you are a man with refined taste.

"Ok," I reply as I demolish any unique flavor in his coffee with his requested adulterations.

"Oh that's good," he smiles, and walks out the door, a satisfied grin on his face.