Ode to JJ Bean

A friend just got me a one-person coffee contraption from Montreal, which gave me the perfect excuse to rush down to JJ Bean. (And of course each time has an excuse. Hey, it’s Wednesday, time to celebrate! Oh, today is July, congratulations. . .)

I enjoy my latte at JJ Bean like nobody’s business. Strong enough with the right amount of taste, aroma, not to mention it’s Fair Trade and organic, yadda yadda. Don’t worry - I’m not going to get into the oak barrels and hint of berry on the palate monologue from Sideways.

The experience of consuming milky java concoctions on the patio to people watch can’t be paralleled but they raised the prices recently and I need other alternatives. For the first time, I buy their freshly ground beans and once that warm paper bag packed with caffeine granules is in my palm I am so excited, I can burst.

“Do people ask for non-Fair Trade, non-organic coffee here?” I wonder to my friend.
“They probably carry it,” she says after a long sip of her latte. The barista took the liberty to trace a nicely curved leaf on the foam this time.

So this morning, I’m enjoying fresh DIY coffee. No more poor woman’s coffee (your very own line of filtered False Creek water at the office). Hmm. . .what’s next? I might possibly graduate to a French press and then maybe the high-tech Barista 3000 with the full pumps and foam agitator. Yuppie-living here I come. . .