
Walking in the shadows of the great volcanic peaks surrounding the ancient city of Antigua, Guatemala, I stopped to pick a ripe coffee berry. That berry was one of a cluster on a coffee tree, which was one of many on the grounds of a great plantation. Some of the varieties of beans and the subsequent roasts originating from that very estate have won awards the world over.
Later that day, in a centuries-old villa on the property I sipped a blend that had notes reminiscent of hickory smoke, cocoa nibs, and a touch of black currant. The whole scene was about as perfect as a coffee connoisseur could ask for. A delightful cup in a spectacular setting.
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Stepping over glistening puddles of runoff oil under the neon lights of a gas station in rural New Hampshire, I stopped to avoid getting run over by a dually Ford pickup. Inside I was overwhelmed by the smell of hot dog at 6:00am, which intensified as I realized that the wiener carousel was located next to the coffee urns. There were two options: regular and decaf.
Later that morning, driving down the misty 2-lane highway behind an oil truck, I sipped a drink that had notes reminiscent of coffee… maybe? I was going fishing, and this was the first hot beverage and the first caffeine of the day. A delightful cup in a spectacular setting.
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I’m convinced that the best cup of coffee you can have is the cup of coffee you have when it is the only cup of coffee you can have. I’m hardly an authority, but I’ve been lucky enough to drink some really top-shelf stuff in some amazing places around the world. A lot of it, incidentally, in situations associated with fly fishing.
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