The atmosphere was more akin to a rock concert than a low-key coffee shop get-together: thumping music, people sipping on beers, everyone packed together to stay close to the action and fans chanting the names of baristas as if they were rock stars. It was joked that the sharply-dressed male baristas should start a hipster boy band, since they obviously already possessed the ability to make crowds go wild.
When I recently visited my coffee friend, Rusty Angell, he brewed me a cup of Ethiopia Guji Sidamo that was so very delicious: bright, fruity and tart with a creamy finish. It was that fresh-tasting good-good... So you can imagine my surprise when he told me that he'd been storing said good-good in the freezer, a practice I've long been taught is a major no-go for coffee quality.
In which I spend an afternoon on a farm. Don't worry, I'm not trading my Danskos and jeggings for a pair of overalls any time soon, y'all. Pass the coffee.