I have seldom had a good cup of coffee. The first time that I had a great cup of coffee was when I was 24 years of age, and had traveled with some friends down to Medellin, Colombia. We went to a coffee shop, and the cup that I had there was much akin to a religious experience. Few things since that time compared.
Then, a few months ago, a dear friend of me invited me to dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant. The food was marvelous, albeit a bit hot. And my friend suggested that we have a pot of coffee to finish things up. I agreed, and am very glad that I did so. The servers, who were Ethiopian, brought out a smoking cast iron pot with a long handle, which contained the coffee beans which they had freshly roasted. The resulting pot was marvelous, and a close second to what I had experienced back in Colombia so many years ago. Read the rest of this entry »