How other Americans can get down that thin brown slop they call coffee is something I can't understand. I have happy memories of the aromas wafting from coffee roasters, enveloping downtown New Orleans and confirming what we already knew about our city's unique appreciation for coffee with body and bite.
Heh--I'll never forget the time we visited my "upstate New York" kinfolk. My uncle thought of himself as a real "two-fisted coffee drinker" because he consumed a lot of coffee over the day. I looked into his (full) coffee cup AND I COULD SEE THE BOTTOM OF THE CUP. The stuff looked JUST LIKE TEA. I suspect a demi-tasse cup of good dripped (percolators are for barbarians!!) Community Dark Roast would probably have killed him.