Where's the Good Coffee?
I moved to this frozen rainforest about a year ago.
The friends I left behind consoled me, saying "Well, at least you'll have lots of good coffee!"
Well, it's been a year, and I'm still looking. I've visited dozens of coffee shops and coffee kiosks (many of then operated by bikini-clad fudge addicts), but the best I can say is that the coffee is about as appetizing as a mug of burned rubber. Seriously, the stuff tastes like a tire fire that was put out with skim milk.
At a "Coffee Roaster" coffee house (where you'd think they'd know a little bit about coffee) I asked if they served the "Cold Brew" style of coffee that was all the rage in other parts of the country. (This is coffee that is prepared, from start to finish, with cold water. It takes much longer to prepare, but if you know what you are doing, the flavor is rich, very smooth, a bit nutty, possesses a complexity almost like red wine, and has absolutely no bitterness.)
"Well, we can give you some French or Spanish Roast and put some ice in it for you."
At another coffee "boutique" I asked if they had any Medium Roast -- maybe a Mocha Java.
(Even Dunkin Donuts can do a decent Mocha Java)
"Medium Roast? No, we don't have any of that. But we can give you a French Roast and add some water to it."
Yeah -- and while you're at it, why don't you add water to some red wine to make your own white wine?
Gack!
After all this, all I can say is, if you are going to Mexico, don't drink the water.
And if you are going to Seattle, don't drink the coffee (same reason).