FRIED COFFEE

It’s early morning as I check my email and give thought to putting the day into some kind of order.  I need to take my recyclables to the transfer station,  make plans for my gorilla marketing campaign for the next week, and deal with my bookkeeping.  I know, I know, it’s not such heady stuff but I have a Dark Sin that I wish to deal with here.

It is perking into my consciousness bit by bit while I peck away at my keyboard. A hot brewing thing demanding attention and stirring me to action.  I never meant for this to happen but it has insinuated itself into my life and I feel a need to share.  A little background first.  I live near a very small  village in the wilds of New Hampshire.  It’s darn hard to keep secrets in a community  this tiny. This post deals with one such secret.

Digression.

During my career in kitchens I, along with every other cook in kitchens world-wide, clung to my glass of coffee as if it were a built in extension of my arm.  The energy and alertness derived from it sustained me through countless hours of line cooking and early morning prep sessions.  The focus was on the stimulation the brew provided not so much on quality. A helpful boost in dealing with the pace of a kitchen.

Fast forward.

I stepped back from day to day kitchen supervision and settled in my cabin-in-the-woods and a gentler life style.  Still,  there was coffee.  I further admit to purchasing the least expensive, grocery shelf grounds available.  The mind-set was still about the ingestion of caffeine you see.

The secret – one small farm.

If you were here I’d take you for a short trip down the road to the general store/post office,  hang a right on Federal Corner Rd. and follow it up the hill past the end of the pavement and turn left on Burleigh Rd.  A short distance further brings us to the picturesque antique farm of Jim and Annie Clark.  It’s not the most remote spot in the world but it’s far enough that cable access hasn’t reached there yet. Peacefulness abounds on Burleigh Road, hiding the small, albeit intense and fervent, enterprise called Black Bear Coffee.

I had heard that they were producing coffee up there and decided to introduce myself and take a peek. I did so. I tasted. I became an ardent fan.  They are doing for coffee what Napa Valley did for wine 50 years ago or more.  With a passion!

The old barn on the property was revamped into a state of the art brewing and storage facility that produces the best darn coffee you could slip past your tongue. It’s an experience akin to sipping a Grande Champagne cognac and savoring the aroma while doing so.

These two people have put heart and  soul into their endeavors along  with a level of personal integrity, and commitment to perfection, seldom seen these days.

Please don’t take my word for it. Visit the website. Read. Try.

Oh.

My Dark Sin ?

A Black Bear blend of hazelnut creme, cinnamon, and a touch of chocolate.