Coffee breakup

Dear Millstone,

We've got to talk. It's not working out between us. I thought you were what I needed but it turns out I was wrong. It's not you, it's me. I need a deeper, richer flavored coffee and you being bright and mild are meant for another coffee drinker. I hope when we come across each other at the market our interchanges won't be awkward. I promise to be polite when I see you on the shelf. I won't say much, I may not even look at you, we'll just let each other move on with our lives. Thanks for the great times we had those early mornings were quite special.



I have to break up with my coffee. It's just not working out anymore. I thought by trying something new I would be able to have some variety. I used to be one of those Starbucks people. Brewing my own at home. Now I find all their coffees have too smokey of a flavor, almost a burnt taste. I just can not drink it any more. Age. My preferences are changing as the years pass. Not that my morning coffee choice is a big life altering phenomenon. Actually my coffee choices have been going old school. For years I went with the trendy varieties. Perhaps it was my youth driving those decisions. Who knows. I have rediscovered the old favorites that I used to see in the kitchens of my family. The Folgers, the Chock Full 'O Nuts, and Maxwell House. Currently I'm on the Folgers kick. It's going great, even though I do like to dabble a little with Newman's Own. Maybe I'll always have a wandering heart when it comes to coffee.

How about you dear readers, what is your favorite morning brew?


wealhtheow said…
Chock Full O'Nuts!

My FAVORITE coffee is actually Gevalia, but that's receded into the haze of "Remember back before we had a kid and had something resembling a disposable income? Maybe not disposable, but at least recyclable?" Now it is Chock Full O'Nuts and swimming lessons.
Judith said…
Coffee and I broke up in last summer. We met in an indie coffee shop in Kentucky, had a quiet moment seated between old books, perusing road maps and contemplating outsider art. Then I drove away knowing that was the last time coffee would touch my lips, at least this side of Appalachia...

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