THIRD MILLENNIAL COFFEE HOUSES: A PREVIEW
 We were wandering around the net recently (Bill surfs, Steav
wanders) when we ran across a virtual coffee house website! Cool, eh? and
with a click of a mouse there we were... Actually we were still in our own
house.  The smells of the virtual coffee house were amazingly like the
wafting odors from our clothes dryer (ah.... Springtime!) and the
conversation in this space was a kind of 'Post-It notes'. Right...
 This fascinated us... How many places, we wondered, were pawning
themselves off as coffee houses sans coffee? So we surf/wandered on.
 We revved up our search engines were able to locate 132 different
internet sites that called themselves coffee houses. Excuse us? Not so much
as a milligram of caffeine! Where is the latte? Could I have an herbal
chai, please? What is your policy on refills at this web-site?
 Click to another site which at least allowed you to type your
conversations with the other residents (that's what they called them:
residents... when we get people at our shoppe who seem to be taking up
residency, we call them regulars...) The ambiance was a little better at
this site only because you could type your conversations in color... now
that is real information superiority... as if the conversations in our real
shoppe aren't already colorful enough! Sheesh!
 The existence of virtual communities is great, don't get us wrong.
We have made many good friends across the world this way. Chatting
frequently with one of Stephen Hawking's co-workers (which Steav has been
doing for a few years now...) or traveling to Indiana on a job (as Bill
did) and meeting someone irl (in real life) you've conversed with for ages
on the net is a great experience. Keeping in touch with family and friends
without substantially adding to Ma Bell's coffers is loads of fun.
 But none of this has anything to do with being a coffee house.
That's the equivalent of watching reruns of  "Cheers" when you want a beer.
They're missing the true reality of what a coffee house is!
 Coffee is the medium by which people get to know each other in a
coffee shoppe. Let's take a 'virtual' census of a typical entourage at our
shoppe. The drinks are real; only the names have been changed to protect
the innocent baristas.
 At the top of the list is "French Pressed Decaf Espresso", a local
artist of national reputation who shuns caffeine when in the thrall of
painting (something about not being able to paint a straight line while
'under the influence') and his friend "English Breakfast Tea/Mug No Teapot"
who both spend considerable time at our shoppe conversing about all manner
of topics and who draw other regulars, irregulars, and newcomers (newbies?)
at the shoppe into their great debates.
 And  "Snicker's Latte, Double" who, with a poetic eye, watches the
comings and goings of our clientele and eagerly shares his most recent
short story with those he thinks would find it interesting (and it is...)
Often "Large Regular/Cream & Honey" is in residence, enjoying the
camaraderie of those coming and going. He regularly refers to the shoppe
folks as his family.
 "Large Regular-To-Go/Flat Lid" stops in once or twice a day and
keeps us informed about the music scene both in Oswego and in the jazz and
alternate pop music world in general. He enjoys dropping hints of who might
be headlining Harborfest this summer but, before you can actually pin him
down he's out the door and on the go.
 "Refill Please-And Could You Put It On My Tab" ensconces himself in
the lounge upstairs, delving into his role-playing games but ready in an
instant to help out whenever anyone needs anything. Our day is best when
"Large White Hot and a Bagel To Go" comes in with a huge smile and kind
words for everyone around her. When we (your humble baristas) are down in
the dumps, "Single Shot In The Dark {but don't fill it because I spill!}"
is in each afternoon and puts our world back into proper perspective.
 "Just Coffee and Some Bisquits For The Puppies" settles in during
the late afternoon, relaxing by playing games with the shoppe Labs (Kenya
and Djimah) and having them do tricks for minuscule bits of puppy treats
(but they do... for her... they adore her). "Seville Orange Moccachino"
always brightens everyone's days with a smile and a compliment. Same is
true with his honor "Regular and a Chocolate Biscotti" and his assistant
"Chai Tea in a Tea Bag, Please". Life is always good when they stop in.
 That's what a coffee shoppe is: nothing virtual, nothing
chat-room'ed, nothing made up or 'posted'. Real people with real lives and
real drinks in their hands. Having real conversations about real situations
and getting real support and real friendship from the other real "regulars"
as well as from their baristas... who love 'em... honest.
 We will never make our first million doing this, but we wouldn't
trade it for a million, either. Happy New Year!

A LATTE LADEN FUTURE - THE EMPIRE STRIKES OUT
 When the biographies of the movers and shakers of the next
centuries are written, there will be a sub-text that will be (like snow in
Oswego) hovering over the future without actually showing itself to the
unaware public. (Where IS the snow, by the way...?) We (your humble
baristas) truly believe that great coffee will be the underpinning of the
civilized society of tomorrow.
 An essay in that bastion of fortune telling, TIME MAGAZINE, from
December 6, 1999 (last month, but it might as well be last millennium...)
has our collective tea pots boiling in the coffee world. Author Josef Joffe
stated in his article that "When a powerful country starts drinking good
Java, down goes the empire". Joffe then proceeds to decry the globalization
of good coffee with patently erroneous extrapolation of what bad coffee has
accomplished in the past five centuries so far; to whit:
 A- the downfall of the Moorish empires in the 15th and 16th
centuries coincided with the uprising of splendid Turkish coffee (qahwa)
and the spread of this fine beverage began the downfall of the Ottoman
Empire...
 2- the age of American expansionism in the 1800's and early 1900's
was marked by a swill-like coffee that was universally referred to as motor
oil...
 III- the Soviet Union's tepid water and toxic mud, passing
regularly for coffee, allowed  it to crush revolts and attach satellite
countries to its sphere of influence like burdocks to a beagle...
 and on and on and on...
 Joffe's theory states that when bad-coffee drinking coffee
countries succumb to the succubus of a fine Ethiopian Yrgacheffe and the
hiss of the latte steamer, they loose all the rough and tough edge that
keeps them in power and thus percolates into the end of their leadership in
the world.
 Balderdash!
 We at the Palladium-Times (well, we here at Buzz Words, at least)
are here to correct such misrepresentations in Time Magazine. Joffe's
theories are based on inconclusive evidence - He simply didn't look far
enough into the correct future to see what kind of world "good coffee" is
about to bequeath us as we go caffeinely wired into the new century. Let's
look at the REAL worlds yet to come:
 Star Trek. Few can deny that the future as portrayed in Star Trek
is a desirable one. Art, culture, no money, universally balanced economies,
no disease or poverty. Pray, what do they drink when boldly going wherever?
Coffee. Capt. Kirk drinks coffee - black, one sugar. Sulu (once promoted to
Capt.) has his own designer coffee service! (we have had it replicated and
it's in our own cupboard...).
 Capt. Janeway, hurled against her crew's will into the Delta
Quadrant bemoans the loss of real, brewed Java, but soothes her 24th
century nerves with replicated coffee and a dream of eventually returning
home to the real thing. These folks are, by definition, seeking out new
civilizations!
 Hey! Even the bloody Klingons drink coffee and they have surely
been bumped up several notches in the evolutionary scale with the advent of
their 'Raktachino'.
 Captain Jean-Luc Picard, the penultimate representative of our
gentler-but-kinder future actually goes to the extreme by drinking
"tea...Earl Grey...hot" thus proving that, far from destroying civilization
as we know it, excellent 'Joe' or fine tea will prove to be the catalyst
for creating the cultured future for which we long.
 We could go on. The "Star Wars" sagas show an empire of hideous
evil, but when was the last time you spotted a latte sitting next to a
holo-chess game? There is not a decent cappuccino to be found in all four
films, and disaster is the obvious result. Couldn't Luke and Lord Vadar
have been more successful discussing their familial relationships over a
double-shot cafe mocha?
 In our very own era, the expansion of the gourmet coffee shoppe has
coincided with the greatest economic expansion in history! In 1990 there
were but 500 gourmet coffee houses in the U.S.A. Now there are over 7000
(2000 of them are *$'s) The gurus of Silicone Valley have made their
multi-fortunes while downing shots of Italian Espresso and sipping Royal
Kona Gold. The three martini lunch has given way to the double latte
brunch. Coffee is the very key to the salvation of the universe in the
centuries to come, despite what "Time" and Mr. Joffe say. (huh? yeah we
read the 'Time' essay all the way through. Why? Sure, we 'got' it... Of
course we did... didn't we? What do you mean, he was kidding? Coffee's no
joke... Satire? It was satire? Tongue in cheek? are you sure... oh...)
 Nevermind.

AMERICA'S  CUP: AN AULD MUG MADE NEW
 
When we began in the coffee business, one of us (Steav) wanted to
put a Fooz-Ball table upstairs in the shoppe. It looked so cool on the set
of "Friends" that it seemed the right thing to do (all the "Friends" cast
drink cool coffee in cool mugs in a cool shoppe... why not?)
 The other of us (well, Bill, of course) decreed the idea
inappropriate (I recall the word 'dumb' being bandied about...) and based
his argument on the fact that coffee shoppes are for chess and 'thoughtful'
activities and that Fooz-Ball and its ilk need to remain in 'other' public
establishments.
 The point of this was driven home recently while serving a group at
our shoppe who were all incredibly excited about a sporting event that
never makes prime time on ESPN. They were arguing and comparing notes about
such sports legends as Gary Jobson, Dennis Conner, Paul Cayard. Their talk
was intensely animated discussing pre-start maneuvers, left-side /
right-side advantage, bear-away sets, and terms that might have been in a
foreign language save for one small thing:
 Your humble baristas (us) are sailors.
 The frenzy of talk was about that quasi-triennial global challenge,
the America's Cup Race - the Auld Mug.
 Now, understand that we have relatives (not really friends, you
see...) who consider yacht racing the sporting equivalent of watching grass
grow. Nevermind that we look often at football as the moral equivalent of
watching grass die hideously... You get the idea: coffee tends to foster a
uniquely different set of sporting responses. Chess, not Fooz-Ball;
sailing, not football.
 Which is not to say that sporting greats in the more popular arenas
don't drink coffee; of course they do - nearly everyone in the world does.
But coffee does not percolate in the bloodstream of the NFL, AL, WHL or WWF
in the same way it does in the AC races.
 We have a personal favorite sailing legend: Dennis Conner. A
yachtsman cum drapery manufacturer whose personal girth may have prevented
him from actually seeing his own feet in the last 10 years (our kind of
athlete!), Conner is best known for having lost the "Auld Mug" after the NY
Yacht Club had held it for 130+ years. (Nevermind that the NYYC got to make
up the rules for the races and change them ad libitum in their favor).
Conner is also the guy who, against all odds, sailed the America's Cup back
to the U.S. after beating the gloating Aussie's four straight.
 Conner is quoted in his book "Comeback" as saying, "We couldn't
have won the Cup back if coffee hadn't been invented." Bless him! But it is
true that Conner's Stars & Stripes Syndicate spent many long evenings in
the juryroom, painful nights reworking their boat at the compound, and
hard, grueling days on the race course itself, winning back the world's
oldest sporting trophy.
 Maybe the New York Jets, Mets, Sets, and Nets do drink coffee, but
we have yet to hear them give it any credit for winning. Think about it:
when was the last time you saw a five gallon barrel of coffee dumped over
the winning coach? (OK- perhaps that's not a great idea...) Nah - they all
think they owe their accomplishments to GatorAde and other trendy sports
drinks. To the best of our knowledge, only the sport of yacht racing
actually gives credit where credit is due.
 Which is all to let YOU, our faithful readers, know that the races
are back! This year in New Zealand where, much to our dismay, Skipper
Conner's boat has been bested by a meticulously messy mingling of judging,
protests, and money woes.
 But, at this writing, there is a whole series of great races to
watch en route to the America's Cup. One especially exceptional boat,
America One, will be pitted against Prada, the Spanish galleon, to see who
becomes the official challenging yacht, beginning this Monday!
 The winner of the America One vs. Prada (America One, natch!) will
sail a series of races in mid-February against the Kiwi defenders and with
luck, good wind, skill and lots of coffee, we hope they will bring the Cup
home.
 And in case you plan on watching the two remaining series of races
(along with us - we never miss 'em!) you may want to fire up the coffee
pot, too. It's all broadcast from New Zealand, so it begins at 1 a.m. EST.
 Now there's another good reason to bring the cup home...

A BARISTA BY ANY OTHER NAME
 The pleasant looking policeman revs up his flashing lights,
serenades me on his siren, pulls me over and glances at my license plate as
he strolls purposefully towards my car. I smile, not knowing what I may or
may not have done, but sure in my determination to put on my best face.
 "Morning, Counselor. Nice day. You on your way to the courthouse?"
 I draw a complete blank blank. Why would I be headed for the
courthouse? "No," I gently reply. "I am on my way to the coffee shoppe."
 "Ah! A little bracer before a long day selecting a jury, maybe?" He
glances at my car and retraces his thoughts. "Maybe on your way to you
office at the Legal Aid Society, hm?
 Huh? I drive a Buick, sure, but it's ten years old with 120,000
miles on it. I'm wearing a black shirt sans tie and cargo pants with
sandals. Why does he think I'm a lawyer, fer cryin' out loud? "Um, no sir.
I just have to open the coffee shoppe this morning."
 "Really? Opening a coffee shop? Interesting. You invested in a
coffee house? I would have thought that a young, bright attorney would be
pushing his money at e.trade or corporate mergers or computers or foreign
investments or something..."
 "I'm not an attorney," I reply, cautiously. "I just own a coffee
shoppe."
 His face darkens as he glances in the back of my car which is
littered with used Styrofoam mugs, well chewed puppy toys, my ubiquitous
jumper cables and a case of 3000 sugar packets. His voice takes on a stern
tone. "Is this your car, sir?"
 "Well, yeah! Course it is! Would you like to see my license and
registration?"
 "Sir, if this is your car, why do your plates say BARRISTER if you
say you aren't a lawyer..."
 oh... "Um, no sir... I mean yes, sir, I am not a lawyer, and the
plates say BARISTA. I own a coffee shoppe."
 "Right - so you said - but why are you trying to pass yourself off
as a lawyer? This isn't some kind of lawyer joke, is it?" He is visibly not
pleased.
 "Oh, no - not at all - it's BARISTA, not barrister. I'm a barista,
you see..."
 "So you ARE an attorney... Which is it? and by the way yeah, let me
take a look at those papers of 'yours'". He scowls with the same confusion
my father once did when he first was told 'Who's on first and What's on
second...'
 "Sir, it's barista... its just a totally different word. It doesn't
have anything to do with lawyers."
 "You got something against lawyers, guy? I wanna tell you that some
of my best friends..."
 "No... no! It's 'Barista' - it's a title for someone who makes good
coffee... kinda like a bartender at a bar, only I work at a coffee bar..."
 "Hmmm - so maybe you've had a few drinks, then? Kinda early in the
day for that sort of thing, doncha think, Mr. Attorney?"
 "Uh, sir, you need to listen carefully. A barista isn't an
attorney. It is just a name for a person who makes coffee. It's Italian.
Like, for example, if you work at a soda fountain they call you a
soda-jerk. What I do is like being a coffee-jerk."
 "Hey! Watch your mouth. I'm not sure I like your attitude. There's
no reason to start calling me names..."
 "Oh, my NO! That's not what i meant - what i mean is that my
license plates say BARISTA because that's what I am - not an attorney - I
don't have anything to do with the law. I just make coffee drinks - good
ones, too, I might add. That's why I'm a barista. I own and run a coffee
shoppe."
 "Coffee shop, eh? Right. Like those two guys in the newspaper who
write those stories about fancy coffee and poetry and fooz-ball and
coffee-pooping cats? My wife likes it but, if you ask me those guy are
nuts. But my kid likes their store. Hangs out there a lot, so he says. And
my wife likes that flavored coffee stuff, too. Not me. I just want a good
strong cup of high-test. Real coffee."
 (feeling at a loss as to the best direction to proceed...) "Well,
yeah, I guess I am a little like those guys, except they are a lot smarter
than me... heh... heh... heh..."
 "OK, guy. Look, your story doesn't make a lot of sense to me, but
your license and registration are alright, so I'm gonna let you go with a
warning."
 (The sense of relief floods over me like the wave from a doppio
espresso) "Sorry, sir. I didn't think I did anything wrong..."
 "Well, look. Impersonating an attorney isn't illegal, just dumb.
But don't go making those faces when you drive by me at Dunkin' Donuts."

Greetings, Friends Of The Bean...
 Not really a newsletter, but several shoppe regulars thought we
should share with you a 'pre-release' of this week's column. As a coffee
shoppe, we share the good in life as well as the sad. This will be
published on Thursday, Feb 3, in the WEEKEND section of the Pall-Times.
peace - Steav & Bill

To Schooner: In Praise Of Puppies

 Ok. Let's start this week with a quiz! Ready? What to the following
individuals have in common? Molly I, Cain, DevilDog, Molly II, Bob (known
to his friends as 'Robert'), Mariah, Lady, Bandit, Maverick, Campy, Kenya,
Djimah, and Schooner...
 They are all regulars at the local coffee shoppe. Special regulars.
Four pawed regulars. Puppies! It all started out innocently enough. We,
your humble baristas, decided to add a beautiful chocolate Lab to our
family about a year and a half ago.

Kenya. We didn't know it was a
marketing tool. We didn't know that puppies attract puppies and their
owners. We just wanted someone to play with after a long day of
jerking espressos and steaming lattes.
The difficulty is, though, that you can't leave a Labrador
Retriever alone at home when they are a puppy. They eat your house.
 They eat your shoes. They eat your walls, your furniture, your plants. But they
also tear your heart out. You come home and they do the 'happy puppy dance'
to show you were missed (in spite of the carnage) and when you leave for
work they cry. Not howl, not bark. They cry and the cry is accompanied by
pitiful puppy tears.
 So, if you are a real hard nose (like us) you simply take them to
work with you! And there the real fun of life begins.
 You find out that other people who work downtown also bring their
puppies to work. You discover that people with puppies walk the parks and
the river and want a friendly place to relax with their 'best friends'. And
all of these best friends make new friends for you.
 Puppies beget friends. Lots of friends. Best friends.
 Last Valentine's Day, our 8 month old chocolate Kenya cast loving
eyes on the 18 month old Black Lab puppy in the upstairs office. Schooner.
It wasn't romantic love; it was hero worship. With a Valentine of home made
dog bisquets in a little basket, Kenya made her way through our shoppe,
thru Waterfront Gift Studio, out the door, round the corner, up the stairs
and into the office of Schooner's best friend, Sunny.
 They romped; they played, they chased, they laughed (honest); they
leaped into the air and hugged and smiled. Labs hug - Labs smile. Honest.
 And they became fast friends. Schooner trotted down the same stairs
a day later with a Valentine for Kenya, scampered into our shoppe and into
our hearts. Every day after that Kenya had a play date with Sunny and
Schooner... to the Linear Park, off to Rice Creek, to the marina, into the
river (in the summer), or dashing with glee into the spray at Veterans'
Memorial Fountain. We asked a lot of veterans. They liked the idea of the
fountain being a happy place.
 Schooner and Kenya brought their friends. Pretty soon the sidewalk
outside our shoppe was filled with happy, wagging, playful customers and
their puppies. Every evening, friends and best friends gathered to share
puppy antics and puppy stories. They showed off new tricks or chased
Frisbees into the parking lot. They went upstairs and curled up to watch
chess games played or to watch ever so carefully that no bagel crumb went
to waste.
 Schooner and her best buddy Kenya brought life and love and fun to
everyone but, while willing to share their endless supply of fun and
happiness with humans and other puppies, they saved the best fun and the
best times for each other. They became so close that, recognizing the
special bond they had forged, we added a second little chocolate Lab
 puppy to our family during the summer. Djimah.

And Schooner knew that Djimah belonged. She would sneak down from
Sunny's office or Kenya and Djimah would wait till the coast was clear and
bolt for Sunny's. And the two became three. More friends. More puppies.
More play. More love. Puppies of all ages. Perfect puppies.
 The play dates became a wonderfully wild three-for-all of pups with
Sunny in the middle. They ran and laughed and played, and puppies and
puppy
people from all over town came and laughed and played with them. The
shoppe
was popping with puppies. The awesome Great Dane from Mojo's was there;
Campy from Murdock's Sports joind in; people from out of town came to visit
the puppy friendly place they heard about in Oswego.
 One lady brought us a newspaper clipping of another shop in another
town that had discovered what a great 'marketing tool' puppies are; we
already knew, but that wasn't the point; people who never had bonded with a
pup before were moved to call the animal shelter to find their own perfect
puppy.
 Schooner. Kenya. Djimah. The Three Musketeers, the three amigos.
Three gifts from a god with a heaven full of puppies. But now Schooner is
gone. She died last week and the void seems endless. It was medical, not
misadventure, but it doesn't matter. Kenya and Djimah don't understand and
try as we might, there seems no way of telling them why Schooner is gone.
 But they still run, and leap, and hug, and smile, and do the 'happy
puppy dance' when they see someone they love and we know, without any
equivocation, we know who taught them to run, to leap, to hug and smile and
love. Thank you, Schooner.

If Coffee Be The Drink Of Love, Play On...

 There are few things more misunderstood than coffee and love. and
we aren't going to fix that here. But we celebrate this weekend one of our
best loved and strangest holidays that, by more than coincidence, share
both of these subjects.
 Love and coffee? We can here our readers now. ("OK, I think the
coffee guys have gone too far now...") But the one thing that our editor
and publisher (bless 'em) have insisted upon is that we use only factual
material in our caffeinated discourses, so allow us the following:
 In 1674, in merry old England (made mostly merry by drinking
'hearty spirits' in Falstaffian proportions), a group of women banded
together to blast the newly emerging coffeehouses with the "Womens Petition
Against Coffee" in which they complained,
 "We find of late a very sensible Decay  of that true Old English
Vigor.... Never did Men wear greater Breeches, or carry less  in them of
any Mettle  whatsoever. This deplorable condition is all due to the
Excessive use of that Newfangled, Abominable, Heathenish Liquor called
Coffee, which... has so Eunucht our Husbands, and Crippled our more kind
gallants... they emerge from these detestable  [coffee establishments] with
nothing moist  but their snotty Noses, nothing stiffe  but their Joints,
nor nothing standing  but their Ears."
 Oh my! And that volley of literary shot was immediately countered
by the men with a pamphlet called "In Defense of The Sobering Beverage"
wherein they defend  their case thus:
 "Far from rendering these vertuous gentlemen impotent, [coffee]
stiffens  both the body  and the resolve, makes the heart and  member more
Vigorous in action and stance, the culmination of the [love-making] more
full, and adds a spiritualescency to the Sperme."
 The women won (as one might expect) and England emerged from the
fracas as a tea drinking instead of coffee drinking nation.
 But we wonder just exactly what was 'won'. When one thinks of great
lovers on a national scale, one tends to come up with, say, the non-tea
drinking French, famous for wine, cafes (hello? Cafe = Coffee), and romance
in the extreme.
 Or the Italians who, without exaggeration, are known the world over
for both coffee AND passion! Do a quick comparison of English and Italian
opera and you will see what we we mean...
 Or perhaps romance and love will lead you to the Latins or the
Caribbeans... The fiery dances, the hot hot hot music, Soca, Calypso, the
Limbo!
 Ever see a drunk successfully Limbo? And you never will... When we
lived in Lucaya, the young man who demonstrated the Limbo each night and
who won many island competitions had two drinks sitting at his side: Java
and Coke!
 So the poor English are left to swill tea (not that it's a bad
thing...) and fantasize about their romance-deprived region of the world.
 Because, like the men of 17th century Britain, we all know
(factually) that coffee and romance go hand in hand.
 In only 29 months of existence, we have had no less than 11
engagements announced at our shoppe, 5 weddings celebrated as a direct
result of our connection to coffee.
 Not a week goes by but what at least one  'blind date' begins scant
feet from our espresso machine; marital difficulties are discussed and
settled over a good brew; budding romances are begun with a shared
mochaccino.
 It is not by chance that our most popular specialty drink is the
"Good Night Kiss". It is not aleatoric that our most popular weekend (aside
>from Harborfest...) is closest to Valentines Day; our best attended and
most enjoyed entertainment isn't called "Lovers Concerto" for nothing!
 What confectionery delicacy is closely associated with Valentines
Day? Chocolate! Next to The Bean itself, what do coffee houses use more of
than anything else? Chocolate!
 When a newly smitten teenage couple want to have a special, quiet
evening out, where to go? A coffeehouse. The married couple getting away
for a few hours to enjoy a movie followed by a riverview window seat at
their local coffee emporium.
 When Barnes & Noble located on Erie Blvd. in Syracuse, their book
aisles became "the" place to look for that 'special someone' and then
adjourn to the adjoining coffee shop.
 We cannot count the number of new couples who have told us they met
at Rivers End Bookstore, coffee'd themselves there and thence to Port City
or our place for an Arabica nightcap.
 But the industry itself doesn't always play the coffee/romance card
too well. Chock-Full-Of-Nuts nearly lost its corporate testosterone with a
failed 1940's campaign proclaiming that good coffee was "Every man's right
and every wife's duty!"
 Oops!

A Buzz Words to the wise: Destroy after reading

 He came in last week with a giant smile on his innocent face and a
small folder in his hand. He was excited as only he can get. He is our
editor (bless him...).
 "Hey, didja know next week is 'National Specialty Coffee Week'?" he
grinned innocently. "I thought this might be material for a column!" Tim is
a good boy, and a good editor. How could he know? (cue 'Twilight Zone'
theme)
 How could he know the real truth? How could he know that a
representative of the National Coffee Association already reads our column.
That said representative has already chastised (yes, chastised!) us for
leaking the coffee industry's darkest secret:
 Buzz Words, Pall-Times, July 21, 1999: "There are only two coffee
beans in the whole world. Robusta beans are... the smaller of the two and
grow easily at low altitudes in the tropical mountains. They are abundant,
they are prolific, and they are bitter. And they are what most [Americans]
think of when they think of coffee."
 The conspiracy is simple. We received an immediate email from the
NCA chastising (yes, chastising!) us for "allowing the readers to believe
robustas are an inferior bean."
 We were told in the email that robusta "blends" were superior in
flavor, that robusta beans were a choice crop and that we should correct
our erroneous statements.
 Well, Happy Specialty Coffee Week. We offer the following in our
defense: At a 1959 National Coffee Association, a speaker for the industry
said, "There is hardly anything that some man cannot make a little worse
and sell it a little cheaper."
 Poor saps. It is this caffeinated wool that they have pulled over
the coffee drinking public's taste buds for decades. These are the folks
who gave us so-called 'instant coffee', remember.
 In 1950, with coffee hitting a whopping 80¢ a pound, the real rush
to instant coffee was on. Soluble coffee required a tremendous outlay of
bucks but the result was a product that cost 1.25¢ PER CUP, a full cent
less than regular coffee!
 The taste of the NCA supported instant was so incredibly horrid
that it didn't make much difference what kind of bean they used, including
cheap robusta beans. Worse yet, the manufacturers were encouraged to over
extract the beans, making the resulting brew even more bitter.
 That year, Consumer Research Bulletin said of instant coffee "It is
hot and wet and looks like coffee, but any resemblance to coffee is purely
coincidental."
 "AMAZING COFFEE DISCOVERY" was Instant Maxwell House's ad. Poor old
Nescafe's pedantic claim of  "No fussing with pot or percolator. No Coffee
Grounds!" was an ultimate disaster.
 To compete with the brainwashed public's apparent desire for bitter
coffee, non-instant coffees began stoking their cans with robusta beans.
The industry, meanwhile, completely ignored a massive segment of the
population: Under 16...
 Three days after this writer was born, the cover of Time showed a
smiley-faced Coke disk holding a bottle of carbonated joy to a thirsty
globe.
 Now, face it, folks, didn't we grow up with a bottle of Coke in our
hands and our parents telling us that coffee would stunt our growth? In
point of fact, the two drinks are very similar, nutritionally speaking!
Could coffee have learned a lesson from this carbonated caffeine delivery
system?
 It could, but it didn't. Shortly after the Time cover, a
not-too-bright NCA editor stated, "The coffee trade... is not interested in
the (under 16) group as a market because too many parents would prefer
their children's beverage supplement their diet."
 Coke? Pepsi? Dietary supplements??? Great. So while the soft drink
industry showed youth, vitality and vigor, coffee continued to show harried
housewives and busy businessmen in their ads. Great.
 So... most of us involved in this Buzz Words column (the readers
and the writers) skipped over whole generations of coffee drinking in favor
of fizz. Great.
 And the NCA is still spending its precious time bugging the writers
of a little coffee column in a small city daily paper (hey, we aren't even
syndicated!) to make them (us) extol the virtues of robusta beans! No
bloody way!
 Arabica Beans. Finally, when specialty coffee found a niche in the
market, and after so many years of Chock Full of Sludge, our generations
are being introduced to Arabica Beans. Smooth, aromatic, rich, deep Arabica
Beans! And the results are obvious:
 Starbucks. Second Cup. Central Perk. White House. Cafe Nervosa.
Green Mountain. Cool Beans. Coffee Connection. Mill House. Gevalia.
Kaldi's. Arabica Beans!
 We are the world and the world is filling rapidly with good coffee
once again. The story that has led us to this point is amazing and filled
with Madison Avenue stupidity, but the good beans will ultimately win out.
Finally!
 Like it says in a 1511 Arabic poem, "O Coffee! Thou dost dispel all
care... This is the beverage of the friends of God."

In Nomine Perco, Et Folgers, Et Spiritu Sanka

 Bill is out of town this week, probably running away from all the
flap over last week's Buzz Words! (Actually he is in L.A. running away from
the snow...) So I (Steav) am going to take this opportunity to continue
last week's discussion on something I know a great deal about: Bad Coffee.
 You see, I grew up in a church family. My Dad is a minister, so is
Mom, and my brother. I even went that route for a little while until
discovering it was more fun to do music in a church than the other
'stuff'.
 But one thing was universal: every church had a 'coffee hour' after
Sunday services. It always puzzled me growing up that the coffee hour was,
at best, 20 minutes long.
 It wasn't that people didn't want to talk. After sitting through a
grueling hour of liturgical exegesis, I know that they wanted to talk! And
the cookies were usually pretty good. Why could the post-homily crowd only
last for a quarter hour?
 In rummaging thru the kitchen at my current church post it came to
me like a vision from god: bad coffee.
 My church's kitchen looks like all of them; there are various sized
bulk percolators (ranging from 25 to 75 cups... egad!) and all of them have
a dark brown scuzz lining the interior. And there are cans... coffee
cans... loads of them. Maxwell House, Hills Brothers, Folgers, Sanka
(shiver...), Yuban,  and (my personal choice for world's worst
coffee)Taster's Choice.
 The cans are empty, but you just know they were once full. And you
fear that there will be more cans reincarnating to take their place in an
eternal procession of lousy coffee.
 No one from my church reads this column, so I can say what's on my
mind: if you want a social event to be successful, choosing the worst
tasting beverage and then brewing it in the worst ways (instant or
percolated) is surely not the way to go.
 Although I am going to take my church gently to task, Elks,
Rotarians, Republicans, Kiwanians, K of C and YMCA'ers take heed! I've had
your coffee too! In fact, anyone intent on a nice social time with friends
should be intent on serving a well made, quality coffee. After all, it is
as difficult to make bad coffee as it is to make good 'Joe'!
 And just where do you SIT during these love-fests? Coffee hours are
often spent standing around, balancing a cup of bad coffee and a plate of
good cookies precariously, trying not to scald your palate on already
burned and burning coffee, and attempting not to spill it on your coat,
your bulletin, the diorama your kids made in church school, and your Sunday
best.
 Not my idea of a good time.
 I will never save the world in the fashion of a Billy Graham or
Norman Vincent Peale; my choir directing will never reach the heights of
Robert Shaw or David Willcocks. But perhaps my mission in this life is to
preside at the marriage of churches and good coffee.
 Even great coffee tastes bad when left in those cavernous
percolators for an hour and a half. For about the same price, a church
could get a 'pourover' Bunn-style machine (like most restaurants have now)
- and there are about a half zillion black and copper plastic coffee
serving carafes in every church I have ever been in! Use 'em, folks!
 Measure, measure, measure! I love the little signs in church
kitchens that say "Use one can of coffee for the Big coffee maker, a half
can for the small ones". Has anyone noticed the strange new marketing ploy
that has  produced the 14 oz. pound? Or the 12 oz. pound? Or the 10 oz.
pound???
 In the next few years, cans of coffee will be the same size as soup
cans... sigh. Nuff said.
 Give your friends a place to sit and talk. At least give them a
choice! Those that want to stand and mingle (and ease their butt-weariness)
can always do so, but some of us would like to sit and relax. The church
coffee hour is doomed as long as we insist that people stand thru the
entire thing! Try this, reverend friends: have your congregation stand thru
your entire sermon or homily... Now there's a recipe for success... heh heh
heh.
 And the tables; while I'm on a roll, lets talk about the
inhospitality of those church dinner style 10 foot long tables! Yoikes!
It's more like eating on a bowling alley! Round ones aren't too bad if you
have them, but if not how about using card tables?  Transferring the
intimacy of a 600 seat nave for a 10 foot table isn't much improvement!
 Serve a good coffee. You don't have to shell out $45 for Jamaican
Blue or $28 for Royal Kona Gold. But at the very least get a 100% Arabica
for around $10/ pound. And that's for a REAL 16 oz lb! If you do a little
unit pricing it may surprise you how affordable specialty coffees really
are; and remember that $10 will serve about 60 people,  about 15¢ a person.
Not bad, eh?
 Styromugs are alright, I guess, but if you really want good
fellowship post-communion, break open one of those cabinets with the
gazillion coffee cups stacked solidly. A little dishwashing is good for the
soul.
 Maybe we just need to look at one of those ubiquitous rules:
 Serve unto them what you would have them serve unto you.

HEY BUDDY, CAN YOU SPARE ME A GOLDEN DOLLAR?

 "Hey buddy can you spare me a dime?"
 Neither of us is old enough to remember the  great depression, but
this famous phrase was usually associated with that un-august time and even
became a hit song (which nearly no one could afford to buy, of course...)
 The plea for a dime was so the person might be able to buy a cup of
coffee. Nowadays it won't even get you a refill, so it is with great pride
that your humble baristas upgrade it to "Hey buddy can you spare me a
golden dollar"!
 And what a dollar it is, too! Have you seen it? It's gold, smooth
on the edge and artistically satisfying (unlike the big-headed dead men on
the new bills...)
 Dollar bills are the life blood of a coffee shoppe, but they are
also a pain in the bean (to coin a phrase...) They nearly all are tattered
and torn, corners are frayed or folded or just missing. They never work in
the dollar bill machines, especially when you are dying for a cold drink,
and at the end of the day you have to sort them, unfold them, de-wrinkle
them, get all the 'Georges" facing in the right direction, and scotch tape
the worst of them before taking them to the bank.
 Enter the S.B.A. (not the Small Business Administration) - The
Susan B. Anthony dollar. Not one of the U.S.Mint's most successful ventures
- it was silver (like a quarter) - it was layered with copper (like a
quarter) - it had those little rough ridges on the edge (like a... well you
guessed it). Exit the Susan B. Anthony. Huzzah.
 Enter the Golden Dollar. It's gold (well, gold colored) and
considering the lengths the Mint has gone to to make it work, it just might
do that!
 Sakagawea. That's who is on the "obverse' side of the new dollar
(That's the front, I think...) She guided the Lewis and Clark adventurers
>from the Northern Great Plains to the Pacific Ocean and back. Her husband,
Toussaint Charbonneau, and their son who was born during the trip, Jean
Baptiste, also accompanied the group.
 Without Sacagawea's navigational, diplomatic, and translating
skills, the famous expedition would have perished. For one,she helped Lewis
and Clark obtain the horses they needed to continue their journey. She is
shown carrying her son on the new dollar.
 Want to know more about this remarkable woman? Head on over to
Rivers End Bookstore and pick up "Sakagawea". We did and it's exceptional
historical fiction. Great reading.
 It is also good to see a Native American finally enshrined on
American money again. O.K., we're prejudiced because one of your humble
baristas is Choctaw (you will have to guess which of us it is...).  But it
is even nicer to think that this coin will finally (after the mostly failed
SBA attempt) be one that people will like to use, not toss in a jar for
posterity. The Mint has finally done their homework.
 Is it obvious we like the new "Golden Dollar"? Good. We do! They
are convenient, easy to use, not mistakable as a quarter, and they look
like they are really worth something.
 Nevermind that they are actually worth 12¢. That is what it costs
the mint to stamp it out. But it also costs about the same for the Bureau
of Engraving to make a dollar bill.  And we all know that the ol' greenback
has a lifespan of just a few months. Our new doubloon has a life expectancy
of 35 years! Economically sound. Yay!
 But the striking thing about the new dollar is the art. Glenna
Goodacre, the sculptor who designed the Sacagawea image on the Golden
Dollar, used a real person, Randy'L He-dow Teton, a 22 year old Shoshone
woman.
 In 1998, the University of New Mexico college student spent an
afternoon modeling for sculptor Goodacre. It was just a couple of hours,
but it really paid off.
 During the session, it didn't seem like anything would result. But
a few weeks later, Goodacre called with big news: "We got it!"
 Teton says, "It was hard to comprehend. I was so startled, I called
my family, but no one believed I would be on the new dollar coin. No one
even knew about the Sacagawea coin."
 Modeling wasn't easy, recalls Teton. "Pose this way, hold your head
that way, point, stand up, turn your head..." The instructions went on and
on. "I had to hold poses for a long time without breathing," she says. "I
was glad when it was all over."
 Teton is proud about modeling for the Golden Dollar. She is
particularly pleased that it shows  "...strength, gracefulness, and
humbleness. The dignity in her eyes." And her family is thrilled!
 "To me, the image doesn't represent me, it represents all Native
American women. All women have the dignity of the Golden Dollar's image."
 Now, of course, the problem is getting the darned things! For the
past three weeks we have been using them for just regular change at our
shoppe, but the poor local banks either haven't ordered the coins, or
haven't gotten enough. The Mint has circulated the same number of Sakagawea
dollars in 14 weeks that they did with the S.B.Anthony in 14 years! Oh my!
 But don't horde 'em - use em! Ok, Ok... you can keep a few for
posterity, but we think that these will be a real workhorse coin. I know we
hope that, like our neighbors to the north and their "Loonie", we'll be
proud and happy to circulate such a great looking coin.
 In a world where everyone in other countries has always had
beautiful, artistic, and functional  money to play with, It is a breath of
fresh air that the USA now has a dollar of which to be proud. Nothing
against the fine Father of our Country, but as we have said before:
 Change is good!

DECAFFEINATED COFFEE: WORTHLESS WARM BROWN WATER

 Poor Mr. Letterman. In case you haven't been keeping up to date on
the latest happenings in late night TV, poor Dave managed several weeks ago
to succeed in doing three nominally important things:
 1- interviewing Hillary Clinton (after weeks of unabashedly begging);
 B: Interviewing Regis whats-his-name and, coincidentally enough,
chatting about high cholesterol (a dubious interview success to our way of
thinking - and that's our final answer);
 III~ Having quintuple bypass surgery the very next day.
 We here in the home of The Bean are glad he recuperated so quickly
and apparently completely. In fact, he is back on the show (most of the
time anyway) but with one small caveat: David Letterman is drinking
decaffeinated coffee.
 Whoaaaaaa, Nellie! How the mighty have fallen... maybe.
 Poor Mr. Letterman. The sad part isn't the decaf, mind you. The
tragedy is that his staff (one assumes he has an extensive one) has failed
him utterly and miserably by not providing him with a good decaf to sip on
stage. C'mon, folks, they are in the Big Apple! They can't locate a decent
brew for "The Man"?
 Sanka? Hills Bros? Choc-Full-O-Swill? Taster's (shudder) Choice?
One wonders what they have been giving him to result in such a face at each
sip! (Maybe  Starbucks? Nah - you have to assume they at least LIKE the
guy!)
 Decaffeinating The Bean is NOT a violation of its sacred nature.
OK, true, coffee is certainly a pleasant way of facing the day, and the
pleasantness is surely enhanced by a nice jolt of caffeine. But this is
late night TV... yeah, yeah, it's taped in the late afternoon (just the
thought of Letterman Live gives one pause.) But the veritable god of
post-news broadcast entertainment oughta have a decent cup o' Joe, dontcha
think?
 Caffeine-free beans have simply had all the caffeine soaked out of
them. They go to the roaster green like any bean.  The "Swiss Water
Process"  of decaffing simply soaks the beans in hot water, uses charcoal
filters to eliminate America's drug of choice from the water, then
reimmerses the beans in the same water to put the essential chemical
constituents back into the bean. The result is no identifiable change in
the taste of The Bean.
 Simple, right? There is even a new decaffing process using a
compressed, semi-liquid CO2 that is supposed to be excellent, but it isn't
very widespread yet. Probably because they don't know what to call it.
 "CO2 Processed" or maybe "Gas Processed" doesn't exactly have a
marketable ring to it, does it?
 "Natural Gas Processed"? Nah - sounds explosive or in need of
Mylanta. But we are sure that the industry will come up with a palatable
designation. .
 Anyway, back to the CBS Coffee Bean Story. Poor Dave has had his
coffee secretly (or, perhaps, not so secretly) replaced by Folgers or
something dreadfully similar. Remember those awful 'famous restaurant'
commercials? We figure the restaurants in them probably already served
lousy coffee (most do) and that no one noticed the Folgers because no one,
well, noticed.
 Poor Dave sips, grimaces and forces a slightly gap-toothed smile
while The CBS (coffee bean symphony?) Orchestra plays a little jingle of
"Decaffeinated Coffee: Worthless Warm Brown Water."
 We, your humble and caring baristas feel that professional
intervention is needed, and  very soon, before decaf gets a worse rap and
rep then it already has. The Barista Ultimate Letterman Lifesavers (or
BULL) have swung into action even as we speak.
 First, we are shipping off a pound of Sumatra Mandheling Decaf (our
absolute best, of course, and whole bean - don't tell me that that
award-winning staff doesn't have a coffee grinder available!)
 And a French Press.
 And instructions (we ain't no dummies, but who knows who's brewing
poor Dave's current poison...) and then we shall sit back and await the
outcome (week nights at 11:35).
 Our greatest fear is that someone on his fine staff will intercept
the good stuff in transit and keep pouring him the swill while they
decaffeinatedly party backstage. But they wouldn't actually DO that, would
they? I mean, it's DAVE, fer cryin' out loud!
 So, perhaps the good stuff will get through. Perhaps our quintupley
bypassed hero of Late Night will discover something that we (your humble
baristas, remember?) already know:
 There are two reasons for drinking coffee, not one... Sure, it is a
caffeine delivery system, everyone knows that. But the real reason (or so
we truly believe) is simple: It just tastes good!
 G'night, Dave.

Cast Out of Paradise - And Into Paradise

 It was a dark and stormy night - honest! Ten years ago tonight we
departed our island paradise of Lucaya and started sailing back towards
upstate New York.
 One of the most asked questions, especially from native
Oswegonians, is "Why?" Why did we leave paradise... Why did we seek
paradise, just to leave it ? Why depart from a lifestyle many seek all
their lives (including your humble baristas) and return to a climate known
for its need to winterize? Why, indeed!
 Let's backtrack just a bit. We are sailors, plain and simple. This
time of year there comes a definite longing for boat plans for the upcoming
season... Outfitting for the summer, breaking out the charts, looking at
equipment in magazines and online that you cannot possibly afford, figuring
out how to pay for the hole in the water (into which you throw money),
wondering if old cruising friends are gonna cross your wake during the
summer, and wishing the season was longer - much longer.
 Eleven years ago we departed this veil of snow, sailed down the
canal system and dodged hurricanes ad seratum(Gabriel, Hugo, Iris, Jerry,
and Karen) and found ourselves in Port Lucaya in the Bahamas. It wasn't
planned.
 The best things in life usually aren't. The chance presented itself
and we jumped! Untied the lines and cast off. Took the cat (this was in the
pre-puppy life). We did what most folks only dream of. And it was cool -
trust us - very cool.
 But back to the topic du jour: Why leave our island paradise? We
didn't have to; we didn't meet the snake; we didn't eat any apples (they
were way too pricey there, anyway) and it's for sure we didn't mess around
with anyone called Eve.
 The answer is pretty simple. We are clueless. We didn't know why we
were leaving then, we don't know why we left looking back on it now, and we
don't expect to ever understand how life unfolds the way it does.
 But it does. And in the middle of winter it may seem like a fairly
goofy decision (OK, in the middle of winter it IS a goofy decision!) but
comes the vernal equinox when our seasonal affective disorders go into
remission for another nine months, life on the Great Lakes just skyrockets
into its own paradise.
 The highest point on our Caribbean island was 19 feet above sea
level. (heh heh heh!) But here in Oswego you can head east and in a matter
of a couple hours be into some of the most exquisite mountains in the
world. And it is a state park, no less! Ours to use and enjoy!
 Sailing around Port Lucaya was surely beautiful, but with the
20,000 nautical miles we have logged, we believe the best sailing still
lies outside our fair city, in just about any direction from west to
northeast - if you have never sailed through the 1000 Islands, or pulled
into Main Duck Island for the night, anchored off Beaurivage or done a
broad reach down Adolphus Reach, then you haven't lived.
 Since we have been back we have taken jobs in Oswego and met
fascinating people and made good friends. We have opened a little tiny
shoppe and learned more about coffee than any sane person wants to know.
Trust us... We have become local non-alcoholic bartenders, listening to
folk's joys and sorrows and sharing triumphs and tragedies.
 We have made coffee for both local mayoral candidates and for the
former mayor. We have watched and been entertained by what is usually
referred to as "Oswego politics as usual". We have partied thru 10
Harborfests and worked like dogs thru 2 of 'em.
 We have become part of a community that is worth being part of...
Concerts at the college, shows at the Music Hall, Oswego Players and Oswego
High School Drama, VOCE and Oswego Opera Theater and Festival Chorus.
 We have formed our own jazz/swing trio and we play and sing all
over the area. We have met Larry Kyle and listened to his blues; we learned
to thow pots and form clay at the Art Association; we ate at MoJo's before
it opened and rejoiced when Casa de Luna and Port City Cafe  brought their
special flavors into Oswego life. We commissioned a portrait from Norm Roth.
 We have increased our girth (slightly) as a result of the pastry
artistry of Bob and Laurie at Cakes Galore. We have rung handbells at the
Community Christmas Tree lighting and we have marveled at Ronnie Shaffer's
Children's Chorus and Alli Hawkins' Shakespeare.
 We have collected poetry from customers of all walks of life; we
watched a friend open "rivers end bookstore" and seen his dream turned into
a bright reality. We have read from banned books in that great
establishment and been dazzled by slam poetry from one of the country's
greatest.
 Why did we come back from paradise? Maybe the answer is simpler
than we think.
 Maybe THIS is paradise!

Dear Abby: Make room for The Love Connection

 Time once again to dig into our emailbag and see what's up with the
world outside. Sometimes it's uncanny how much faith people put in a couple
of guys who just make coffee for a living...
Dear Humble Baristas:
 I have a problem that, perhaps, only you can solve. It's about my
boyfriend.I really like him a lot but there is something that stands in the
way of a perfect relationship.
 He doesn't like coffee. I drink about a pot a day,  but he doesn't
like the taste.  I don't know what to do when the love of my life
doesn't like coffee! I read your column all the time and show it to him.
Help me!
 signed, Sleeping In Seattle
Dear Sleeping:
 Glad you like the column - We aren't probably your best source for
romantic tips, but that has never stopped us from giving (cheap) advice
before.
 It's possible that the love of your life may:
1 - never actually have had really good coffee or;
B- not be all that thrilled with the taste to begin with -
and, beyond those obvious problems,  we can't think of any reason that
would keep someone from not enjoying from The Bean... so:
 A- be gentle... start him off with a really excellent cup, brewed
correctly and served with love and something that he may adore on the side:
(like, maybe, you???)
 For example - don't go for a darker roast (that is surely an
acquired taste) but something that is naturally smooth and perhaps a hint
of sweetness -
 Ethiopian Yrgacheffe comes to mind. Earthy, slightly winey,
extraordinarily smooth and rich without being strong - brew it in a drip
pot without letting it cook on the burner at all - or try a well made
French Press brew - just remember that any contact with heat once the Bean
is brewed begins its descent into bitterness - French Presses are nice
because the coffee is more aromatic, not as hot (lots of people just don't
like scalding hot coffee) and the taste is flawless - don't make it too
strong - a fatal error for 'newbies' is an overpoweringly strong cup - keep
the proportions to the minimum for a good cup -
 A Venezuelan Blue Caracas is also a good one - a little spicy with
a natural sweet line without being overpowering - neither is out of line
expensive, but get it fresh - as fresh as possible
 Serve it with cream - not half and half! a touch of real cream
knocks the rough edges off of coffee and it is often the roughness that
beginners object to - just a bloop of cream smoothes it out wonderfully -
 DON'T start a new coffee drinker out with any sweetener!!! serve
something sweet on the side instead... a chocolate biscotti, a fresh fudge
brownie, something scrumptious - (like, maybe, you???)
 2- try a flavored coffee made with 100%  Arabica coffee - best is
flavored with extracts, not powders - again, choose an inviting flavor:
Pecan, Praline, Irish Creme - A weird flavor (liver & onions?) might turn
him off...
 III - do something interesting to ease your partner into the coffee
- pour a cup of regular or pecan or another simple flavor and add a
*heaping tablespoon* of good cocoa (Swiss Miss is fine, Giordelli's is
better) to about 14-16 oz of coffee - stir well and top with whipped cream
and some chocolate bits, shaved chocolate or drizzle chocolate syrup on the
whipped cream -
 Anything else you do with the shaved chocolate and whipped cream is
between you and your conscience.
 D - the setting will make it taste even better - a newbie isn't
interested in swilling down a cup before launching out the door to work or
school -
 On a quiet weekend morning or evening, one of the above drinks with
a nice side munchie at a special window with just two chairs and a view of
a snowstorm or a bustling downtown or such - something that is entertaining
to watch .
 We have a special nook where we enjoy a languid cuppa Joe - it's a
tiny table with two comfy chairs that looks out over our great lake and a
collection of bird feeders.
  Take the coffee away from the usual place it might served - do it
in front of a fireplace, on a deck, in the tub... (heh heh) just pick some
spot that is already appealing -
 Having your life love associate the coffee with a special good time
balances out the whole package - think of the coffee like a good wine -
where would you serve an evening glass of fine Merlot? Same thing can work
for coffee - Best of luck! let us know what happens!
YHB