My dad used drink the darkest most angry coffee he could find…used to say it’d put hair on my chest when I drank it. I’m not sure what exact value was instilled upon me, but now as an adult I truly favor the darker, more rich and bold coffees.
How about you? Light and Fluffy, or Dark and Angry?
Dark and angry. Dark roasts, strongly brewed. Then I go all frou-frou and add cream and sugar. Without the cream, it’s just too acidic. I want smoke, not bite.
Hmm. On second thought, I do have hair on my chest…
Mostly it’s brutally macho coffee, though. The kinda coffee that smashes the mug and stands there in a mug-shape without a container, waiting to be drank. The kind of coffee that sets hotplates on fire, and makes carafes run yipping for cover. The kind of coffee that doesn’t put hair on your chest; it pulls the hair on your chest back into your chest, and rips it out from the inside, hair-by-hair.
The kind of coffee that gives Juan Valdez nightmares, and turns Mrs. Olsen into its sub. That’s my kinda joe!
Most of the time.
Hmmm, I like dark roasts, but I don’t brew it too strongly…probably medium strength. But, I drink it black. No frou frou for me. Interestingly (or not), I drink my tea brewed strong with two sugars and skim milk.
I also like my coffee the way I like my women; dark, bitter and if I’m lucky, Irish.*
I like the darkest, strongest stuff I can find. When I make instant coffee, I use at least double the amount of recommended scoops, and used to do quintuple-strong on a regular basis. Instant coffee shakes.
Kind of a running theme it seems. Like I like my women.
Strong and bitter.
I used to work for a man that I absolutely despised him making coffee. I could pour a cup, drop in a coin and tell if it were heads or tails laying on the bottom. Read the words on it even. Drop a coin in a cup of my coffee and it won’t make it to the bottom.
Light and fluffy! Medium roast hazelnut, one tub of half-and-half, one packet of raw sugar. Gimme a newspaper and a red pen and I’m happy for the next two hours.