... the coffee's hot, and the toast is brow-ow-own
I'm not going to talk about breakfast, but thinking about coffee got me humming some tasty Chisel. Pardon my inner shazza rising forth.
My day typically starts with a large plunger of strong black coffee. I tend to guzzle the lot and am surprised when visitors to my office look thirstily at said plunger expecting me to share. Later in the day I might have a latte followed by another plunger if I'm struggling to maintain consciousness. Well all right, that's an exaggeration. But I have become rather partial to my plunger, long and black.
Having given the supermarket brands the heave-ho I've fallen in lust with the java from Tas Coffee Roasters in Sandy Bay. The raven haired girl behind the coffee counter told me she mixes a bit of this and a bit of that to create her own personal blend. Perhaps it's time I started a bit of alchemy myself. Ah, the next step in my coffee edumacation.
Looking back over very early entries to this site sees me enjoying a Hudson's latte. My how a girl can change. I can't drink their coffee now. Maybe I've grown up. Regular readers will know my fave haunt recently has been Lansdowne Cafe (they use robusta beans, not arabica, much bettera). Took a luscious latte away from Criterion St the other day, but can't say much for Dukkah or Delicious in Elizabeth St. Of course I still heart T42.
But all you uni students ... how do you survive on that coffee from Lazenbys? It is atrocious.
