My coffee addiction/routine has evolved over the years. It began when my parents would fix me a Keely Half n’ Half- part hazelnut, part cocoa- in the early mornings at our family’s restaurant. Which was really all an ambitious 13 year-old would need to wash the heck out of those dishes at 6am. In college, my roommates and I would use a fancy French press…and then leave it on the kitchen counter for the rest of the day. (Wouldn’t stop us from swilling it five hours later, however.) And these days, I pride myself on being picky about my coffee- and acknowledge my standards as I mash my sleep-deprived face onto my coffee maker until it delivers the goods.
First cup of the day, with friend. |
No, really, make yourself comfy. |
I am seriously never alone. |
Try it and lemme know how much you love it! I’ll be right here. Holding my mug.
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