I have a confession: I am an unapologetic coffee snob.
Flipping the little red switch on my coffee maker to brew organic, shade-grown, fair-trade, dark roast is the first thing I do every morning, without fail.
I like it strong, uncorrupted by the likes of cream and sugar, which cover up the gentle bitterness and delicious, earthy undertones that follow every sip.
For me, nothing goes with my morning joe, with one exception. For that ingredient I stumble out my front door and begin the search for the reliable oblong bag hiding somewhere on my deck.
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