Do you really know Coffee as well as you claim?

In a world with a thousand different combinations of Roasts, Milks, Syrups and none/one/two sugars I’m gonna go out on a limb and tell you that unless you are a Nicaraguan mountain peasant (shouts to my man Paolo) who has been raised since infancy sucking on the finest coffee beans in the world I’ll hazard a guess that you are just a big phoney when you smugly whisper “oh this is such a rich smooth blend”.

Even now I’m sure at least one of you has just scoffed “Nicaraguan coffee isn’t the best in the world, it pales in comparison to a Bolivian plateau morning roast”

Well I’m here to tell you, you were born in Morningside and you know as well as I do that you don’t know shit.

I’m certainly not saying that you are not entitled to your opinion, and I’m sure the Starbucks vs. Zaraffa’s debate will rage on for many years to come, but next time you say:

“oh I wouldn’t clean my toilet with a Gloria Jean latte” ask yourself if you were blindfolded would you seriously be able to tell the difference between that and a Muffin Break Latte or a McCafe Latte or even the Latte you get from whatever boutiquey little corner cafe that you rave about to your pretentious mates?

Again, I know it’s difficult to hear the truth, especially when it hits so close to home, there will be people reading this thinking, “well Casey obviously doesn’t know what he’s talking about, I live in a city for god’s sake! I have been drinking coffee since I was 16 years old! How dare he claim, that I would lie about my Coffee appreciation skills?”

I’m sure there are many of you that do know the difference between a great coffee and an average coffee, maybe 21% of you, but all I’m saying is that there is a much larger percentage who just say they do to be part of the conversation or to appear chic or urbane.

The truth is, everyone is a coffee connoisseur these days, an in “the coffee culture” everyone is out to outdo one another:

“Oh a hazelnut Latte? Isn’t that a bit pedestrian? I got a Half-Caff Brazil nut macchiato in a hollowed out Alligator egg, but I have been into Coffee for a while”

I will be the first one to put my hand up and say, I am not a Coffee aficionado, the Coffee I like best, is the kind of coffee that tastes like a coffee that I like.

I’ll drink it black, white, filter or fancy, hot or cold, but what I don’t do is mock people for enjoying a chain store coffee when they could have just driven for 15 minutes more to buy a Dante Van der Graffe camels-milk and nutmeg frappuccino.

“I only drink Dante nowadays; I can’t stomach that other swill”

Growing up, one of my favourite story’s was Hans Christian Anderson’s “The Emperor’s New Clothes” I have referenced it in this blog before, and if you are not familiar with it, you should really hunt it down and have a quick read, the gist of it is this; Just because a lot of people say something is good or important, doesn’t mean it’s true.

The world’s most exclusive and expensive coffee is Kopi Luwak, a Malaysian coffee which is made from the dried droppings of the Asian Palm Civet; a native cat that looks more like a rat or stoat.

These hyperactive little Ratcat bastards exclusively eat coffee berries all day long and steam out perfect little coffee bean shits by the bucketful, which are then collected, cleaned, sun dried and roasted and sold at US $500 a pound.

If you honestly think that gulping down a steaming cup of Ratshit makes you more intelligent and exclusive than everyone else, then I’m off to crack the Nescafe Blend 43 and put the fucking jug on.

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