Ron called the other day to say he'd roasted the last of our coffee for this year and it's already sold.
"That's great," I said.
"It has an oriental flavor," he said.
"What does?"
"Our coffee. That's what they said."
"That's what who said?"
"The people who roasted it. That's how they think we should market it."
"So, our coffee tastes like shoyu and mono sodium glutamate?"
At this, he lost it, cracking up, laughing so hard I had to hold the phone away from my ear. Picture red cheeks, tears of hilarity. Ron collected himself with a signature, exaggerated sign, and said, "Good one, sweetie. I think they though it was kind of floral, like jasmine or something."
Our coffee is mellow and naturally sweet, but otherwise, it tastes like coffee. Really good coffee. Exceptional coffee. No bitterness. No bite. Smooth. Not jasmine or lotus or cherry blossom. Not salty, or sweet and sour. Not like hoisin sauce. It's a little fruity maybe -- it is fruit, after all -- but definitely not oriental. Coffee doesn't even go with Chinese food. "Gee, this pork fried rice and sesame chicken are delicious. I could go for a cup of coffee with this." Who ever says that? Nobody.
Here in Gunnison, I've enjoyed my grocery shopping excursions. This place is known for high prices, but food feels cheap to me after living in Hawaii. So I called Ron this morning to brag about all the good stuff I got today and the price I paid. He responded with, "How much do you pay for lettuce? I get that free. How about green beans? Free." He says this because he grows them in the garden, year 'round. Point for Ron. Of course, he doesn't count the potting soil he buys to plant it in, or the slug bait, or the fertilizer, nor does he factor in the gas at $4.25/gallon, fifty miles round trip to Hilo to buy it all. He used to feel pretty smug about getting "free" rooms in Las Vegas, too. Clearly, his definition of free is different from mine, but I'll give him the point anyway.
It's snowy, gray and wintry today. The view through the window looks like an Ansel Adams photograph. I suspect I'll be sick of it by March, but for now, it's nice. I'm a little upset by the notion that we may soon have an offer on the cabin. I've just settled in here. Ron tells me not to fret just yet, that it takes time for people to get pre-approved for loans, if they even can, and then there's escrow, and we haven't seen the offer yet and may not take it if it's too low-ball, and even if we do take it, it'll be weeks before everything is finalized. But weeks go by fast. Meanwhile, they've got me working full time again next week at the bank, and I'm writing more stories for The Gunnison Country Times, which you can subscribe to online, if you've a notion to do so. My legs hurt from too many presses at the gym yesterday. As my old boss and friend Jeanette Mushkin used to say (in a blatant rip-off of Sonny and Cher that she made uniquely her own), "And the beat goes on."
A hui hou. Aloha!
P.S. Matt Burt shot the photo of the tree, but since he posted it on Facebook, I figured it OK to snatch. I saw some of his photos at the gallery in town the other night, and they are exceptional. Go to mattb.net to check them out.
"That's great," I said.
"It has an oriental flavor," he said.
"What does?"
"Our coffee. That's what they said."
"That's what who said?"
"The people who roasted it. That's how they think we should market it."
"So, our coffee tastes like shoyu and mono sodium glutamate?"
At this, he lost it, cracking up, laughing so hard I had to hold the phone away from my ear. Picture red cheeks, tears of hilarity. Ron collected himself with a signature, exaggerated sign, and said, "Good one, sweetie. I think they though it was kind of floral, like jasmine or something."
Our coffee is mellow and naturally sweet, but otherwise, it tastes like coffee. Really good coffee. Exceptional coffee. No bitterness. No bite. Smooth. Not jasmine or lotus or cherry blossom. Not salty, or sweet and sour. Not like hoisin sauce. It's a little fruity maybe -- it is fruit, after all -- but definitely not oriental. Coffee doesn't even go with Chinese food. "Gee, this pork fried rice and sesame chicken are delicious. I could go for a cup of coffee with this." Who ever says that? Nobody.
Here in Gunnison, I've enjoyed my grocery shopping excursions. This place is known for high prices, but food feels cheap to me after living in Hawaii. So I called Ron this morning to brag about all the good stuff I got today and the price I paid. He responded with, "How much do you pay for lettuce? I get that free. How about green beans? Free." He says this because he grows them in the garden, year 'round. Point for Ron. Of course, he doesn't count the potting soil he buys to plant it in, or the slug bait, or the fertilizer, nor does he factor in the gas at $4.25/gallon, fifty miles round trip to Hilo to buy it all. He used to feel pretty smug about getting "free" rooms in Las Vegas, too. Clearly, his definition of free is different from mine, but I'll give him the point anyway.
It's snowy, gray and wintry today. The view through the window looks like an Ansel Adams photograph. I suspect I'll be sick of it by March, but for now, it's nice. I'm a little upset by the notion that we may soon have an offer on the cabin. I've just settled in here. Ron tells me not to fret just yet, that it takes time for people to get pre-approved for loans, if they even can, and then there's escrow, and we haven't seen the offer yet and may not take it if it's too low-ball, and even if we do take it, it'll be weeks before everything is finalized. But weeks go by fast. Meanwhile, they've got me working full time again next week at the bank, and I'm writing more stories for The Gunnison Country Times, which you can subscribe to online, if you've a notion to do so. My legs hurt from too many presses at the gym yesterday. As my old boss and friend Jeanette Mushkin used to say (in a blatant rip-off of Sonny and Cher that she made uniquely her own), "And the beat goes on."
A hui hou. Aloha!
P.S. Matt Burt shot the photo of the tree, but since he posted it on Facebook, I figured it OK to snatch. I saw some of his photos at the gallery in town the other night, and they are exceptional. Go to mattb.net to check them out.
Comments