^ That SUCKS!
Never roasted my own coffee.
Still remmeber the best cup of coffee I ever had though.
A friend of mine lived in SF and I went to visit. We stayed out late and had a great time that first night. The next morning I was awakened by the scent of coffee. After stumbling to the bathroom and washing the sleep out of mye eyes I made my wa to the kitchen. Thought my friend had gotten up early and made a pot of coffee. Into the kitchen and Mr. Coffee was sitting there staring me in the face....empty.
So I look around in the cupboards. After a minute or two of searching I am hot on the trai. Success! I find coffee filters. Chek the rest of the kitchen and no coffee. Check the fridge? No dice.
Was my friend still here? Go back to the bedroom to check and yep there he is passed out. Well I'm up so now what???
Time to get dressed. Maybe its a coffee shop down the block.
So I throw on some clothes and head down stairs. Outside the morning air is brisk. Its still early. What time is it? I've got no idea as I realize I left my watch....and oh sh@t the key to the apartment on the night stand.
Damn.
Well who knows maybe I can find that coffee and a breakfast taco. So I look around no street vendors.
Just then someone exits the building. "Hey!", I ask, "Know where I can get a good cup of coffee around here?"
The guy gives me a sidelong glance and says "Try Starbucks" and hurries off.
Friendly. Not!
So I start walking doen the street figuring I might get lucky. As I walk down the block the smell gets stronger.
Well maybe its at the corner I think.
So I kepp walking but the smell diminshes. I figure its just the wind shifting since there was a slight breeze and continue to the end of the block in anticipation. Finally I get tho the end of the block and look around expectantly but alas there is no coffee shop.
Ok so now I'm thinking it must have been the opposite way so I start hoofing it to the OTHER end of the block. As I get closer to the apartment though I pick up that familiar aroma. This is nuts I think.
So I stop at the walk up next to the apartment building and figure what the hell. I knock on the door and after a minute or so I hear some shuffling and a muffled voice.
Another miute passes and I turn to leave when I hear the click of a laock openeing. As the door opened a shorter dark skinned man with close cropped black hair stood in the door way. "Good morning", he said, "ho can I help you?".
Well I intoduced myself and asked him if he could tell me where the lovely cofee smell was coming from.
He lauged and then said, "Of course! It is form my kitchen.".
He then invited me in and offered me a cup. Now I was desperate for some coffee but what I tasted was like coffee I have never had before or since. Turns out the neghbor's name was Jorge (but is friends call him Georgie) and he was from Nicaragua.
He pan roasted beans in an iron skillet on the stove. I've never tried to replicate that cup of coffee (cause I'm sure I would fug it up) but it remains to this day the best cup of coffee ever.