Promoted

On Wednesday, I found out (ok, I received a job offer) that I am being promoted to Store Manager. This is really exciting!  What's more, not only is it a promotion, but I will be opening a brand new store.  Woot!

Now, maybe I should get back in the habit of blogging, and keep a journal of the journey to store opening.  Hey, it could happen :)

Coffee Roasting, Part Deux

So, I was so happy to find a popcorn popper that would work that I jumped right in and roasted a batch or two Friday night. I learned a couple things:

1) Timing is everything. The first batch roasted much faster than I expected, so I ended up with a much darker roast than I wanted.  My roasting attempts yesterday were much more successful.

2) Coffee beans smoke a lot when they are roasting. After the first batch I was banished outside.  Definitely need to work in an area with great ventilation, or disconnect the smoke alarms!

3) Although it's cute, my "nostalgia" popcorn popper was not really designed for coffee roasting. It works wonderfully (and roasts great coffee), but some of the plastic parts weren't meant to be subjected to long periods of heat. For example, the popper was designed with a metal-looking piece at the top (like the old popcorn poppers with the popping kettle hanging in the middle of the cart). After finishing a third batch of roasting yesterday, I heard a pop. When I looked over, the plastic which held the "kettle" in place had melted and left the kettle hanging by thin threads of plastic. Thankfully, that part was just decorative.

So, after my first, over roasted batch (when I brewed a press yesterday morning, it was very, very smokey and lacked all the character of Sumatra that I love so much--nothing against a French Roast, but not what I wanted in my Sumatra), my second attempt turned out wonderfully. This morning, I enjoyed a French Press of wonderful Ethiopia Yirga Cheffe! Yum!

Coffee Roasting at Home

Coffee.  It's no secret to anyone who knows me that I LOVE coffee (and to think that I've gone on a 40 day coffee fast) .  That's why Starbucks is the perfect job in my estimation--all I can drink while I'm there, a pound of coffee a week--my definition of a great benefits package.  But I digress.

I love coffee, and decided to try my hand at home roasting.  I found a "local" coffee shop (local in terms of "in the Denver Metro area") that sells green coffee beans, so on my day off today we trekked to the other side of the world (that's how it felt in Denver traffic), and bought some beans.  Then the real adventure started as we searched for a device to roast the coffee in.  I've heard popcorn poppers are a good place to start, but who would have thought that finding a popper with a chamber that looked like this, would be so difficult.  After several stops, we finally found a popper that looked "right" so we bought it and headed for home to try our first batch.

Sumatra is one of my favorite coffees, so that's where I chose to begin.  I was amazed at how quickly the coffee roasted, and just how much smoke it put out (moved outside for the second batch). 

I think I roasted it just a hair too dark as the brewed coffee had a bit more smokiness than I intended.  But it was good!  Everything that I have read says that fresh roasted coffee develops its best flavor about 12-24 hours after roasting, so I'll try brewing a French Press again tomorrow to taste again.

I'm looking forward to experimenting and finding my "perfect" roast!                                                                                                           

I just might qualify . . .

for a Darwin Award (you know, those awards given to those who prove the survival of the fittest by taking themselves out by doing something really dumb).  Anyway, I've been semi-handicapped for the past week because I sliced 2 of my fingers open last Monday night while washing dishes.  You might think I just happened to find the Chef's knife in the bottom of the sink by accident or something, but I cut myself on .  . . of all things . . . the rolling pin.

Ok, in all fairness to myself, there was a chunk of broken Pyrex embedded in the rolling pin . . . and that's a whole other story, but suffice it to say that Pyrex will explode when moved from a direct heat source to a cool counter top (and that just ruins the lovely banana pudding that you have IN the Pyrex dish).  So, as I went to wipe down the rolling pin, SLICE went my fingers.  No worries, though, 16 stitches between the two fingers patched me up pretty good . . . but I am  ready to have my fingers back to full ability when I get the stitches out tomorrow.

I'm Still Here

I have not fallen off the face of the planet or anything.  I wish I could say I have just been so uber-busy that I have not been able to find the time to write anything.  I even wish I could say that I've just been battling a bit of writer's block . . . but that's not it either.  I just have not placed a priority on blogging of late.  Uggh.  But I hope to be back soon.

In other news . . . here's a bit from Dusty's blog detailing what's been happening in our lives:

A couple of weeks ago for Bryan's birthday we went to the Scottish festival in town.  I can't say I was all that keen on the idea since it's not much like Scotland at those things....  I wasn't interested until I got an amazing offer from one of Bryan's co-workers who competes in the women's highland athletics.  She offered to help me make the connections to get involved myself.  I thought it sounded like fun, and what a great conversation starter.  So we went.  I survived several hours of 120 lb logs of wood being thrown about, I survived sword fights, I survived being around dogs the size of small horses, and I survived walking about a place full of 6' 6" Celts in kilts and bearing ancient weapons of every variety.  I had a touch of sunburn on my forhead (no clue why only there) but that was all... until I was brutally taken out by the parking lot.  Israel tripped over Bryan and in an effort to "save" him with my quick highland skill I tripped over him.  My prize, if you will, was my bruised and battered right side.  Right side of what you ask?  My entire right side... except my face.  Yes, my humiliation can be hidden beneath my clothes, but I have felt every injury since . 

So, I'm not afraid of giant Scotsmen, or highland sheep, or even the ginormous dogs... but I tremble at the sight of asphalt... who's fault was it?  > THE ASPHALT!

The moral of the story (well, no moral really), Bryan got a new kilt for our anniversary (the day after his birthday), and I acquired a natural plaide of blue green and yellow that is showing no sign of disappearing soon.  FREEEEEEDOOOOOMMMM... just teasing.