You can tell when Susan gets tired of BLAHg-ing because she kinda just writes one more sentence and stops. Like yesterday when she was b*tching about coffee, she took a look at the time and pulled the plug. If she continued she would've said that she opts for other hot drinks when there's a high probability of coffee disappointment. Our Susan loves chai and often makes her own on the stovetop (black tea, cardamom, fennel, cinnamon, peppercorns, with an abundance of fresh ginger), out in the wild her flexible chai standards accommodate those that may run sweet or spicy or milky or even a bit savory. 

Susan's coffee can only be served to her one way; strong and perfect. 

At home she grinds a few days worth of beans at a time which she keeps in the cabinet NOT the freezer, and employs the pour-over method using a scale to measure exactly 12.15 ounces of water into her favorite cup (a gift from Cousin Caroline). Until recently she used a ceramic pour over filter created by her ceramicist daughter, but that ended when Susan carelessly allowed it to fall to its death from the drying rack. Now she uses a plastic Melita from the supermarket and reusable linen filters. She's not married to the linen filters, she just likes that they never run out.

Giving tea equal time Susan loves this smoky lapsang souchong which smells intoxicatingly like the road in front of her house is being re-tarred, and a loose clove tea in a pretty tin from Pearl River Mart as well as this honey-lemon-ginger-cinnamon tea that her pal Nicole hipped her to.

Oh, will you look at the time!

Susan hasn't had a good cup of coffee outside of her own kitchen since she moved to NC. (For the sake of this complaint she's not including two very reliable American multinational coffee franchises). The best she's had is an acceptable cup, which is not really acceptable at all. Of course Susan hasn't been everywhere in her adopted state, but over the last three years she's been to enough independently operated places with the word coffee in their title she figured they should know how to pour hot water over beans and make her happy. Susan has been heard to describe what she wants in a cup of coffee as 'A five dollar Brooklyn pour over'. Nothing fancy, no flavors or sugars or anything other than full fat cream. And if she even gets a whiff of hazelnut or pumpkin spice it is her solemn vow that she will vomit right there, so step back.

Susan is not of the attitude that everything south of New Yawk is somehow not as good, people down here come from everywhere else and bring their talents with them. She admits to missing the plentiful-ness of everything in NY, but she can get whatever she wants, she just has to find out where it is. 

Except the f*cking coffee.