(Why am I so proud of myself for that alliteration? Is it because it’s Friday, and I’m otherwise brain dead?)
I am going to send this one in to Real Simple magazine’s Genius Domestic Uses For Rubber Bands tip section, but you saw it here first:
I Think The Way I Store My Coffee Is Really Clever
-container for coffee beans
-the bag the beans came in
-thick rubber band that fits around the container
What’s the deal with all this sour coffee, coffee snobs? It’s like I can’t go to a $4-a-cup coffee place without having some whippet-thin-Bataille-loving-Foucault-misreading-better-painter-than-I-am-so-I’m-obviously-just-jealous beauty queen look down his/her nose at me when I ask for the least sour roast possible — and then, should I dare to use my own adjectives in describing what I’m looking for (“earthy,” “more on the bitter side,” “muddy,” “um, why are you looking at me like I spilled apple juice on your record collection?”), he/she actually manages to look so far down his/her nose that his/her head flips upside-down as he/she says, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Okay, rant over. My point? I’ve been on the hunt for non-sour yet excellent quality and locally roasted coffee for years, and still haven’t quite hit my stride. Still, I’m looking. So every time I need a new bag of beans, I try something new to see if it sticks.
A borderline OCD person like me, engaged in a project like this, requires a good record-keeping system so that I know where my taste buds have been and where they’re going. So, every time I buy new beans, instead of peeling off the sticky label I just empty the bag into my trusty container and then cut out the label so I can slip it inside the dedicated label rubber band like a calling card. That way, I can keep track of what I’m drinking and compare it to what I drank before. Because I’m a pretty visual person, the labels serve as a sort of flavor mnemonic, reminding me of how I felt as I stared at that label, day in and day out, working my way through the pound of roasted gems via the spaceship hand-grinder my mom gave me, AKA The Mother Ship (which I will post a picture of another time).