the Sunday roast.

There is an Italian grocery store near my house that I like to shop. It has the best fresh produce: apples that haven't been waxed red, unbruised bananas and a pint of blackberries for ninety-nine cents. 
 

While waiting at the deli counter for salami and freshly sliced bacon, my sons pokes my arm, "Mom?"

I poke him back. "What?"

"Are you going to make (roast) coffee tonight?" he asks.

"I wasn't planning on it tonight, why?"

"Oh. That's too bad, it makes the house smell good.”

Trying since last September, no luck yet.

That settled it. After getting home and putting the food away, we all went outside. My husband was digging out the root bulb of a bush that we keep cutting down, but keeps growing back. Each shovel thud was accented with a sneeze from allergies, the whole reason we keep cutting down the bush. My son was chasing the dog in the backyard. After hearing him shout, "swish and flick" in an attempt to make Denali levitate (wingardium leviosa is a bit difficult for a three year old) I looked again to see the dog chasing him. The power of a stick, to my dog it is a chew toy and to my son a magic wand.

Once the magic wand was reduced to splinters, my son moved on to playing basketball on the back deck. Not wanting another incident that could beak the roasting canister, I set up on the front porch.  (Original Incident)

This morning, we brewed the roast. It was the perfect Sunday morning cup of coffee; a mellow, full bodied cup with caramelized undertones. On the first sip a flower taste was noted, but didn't linger. This roast had the smallest caffeine kick I have ever received, more like a nudge back to the kitchen for more. But one couldn't ask for a better start to a Sunday morning than slowly savoring this brew with feet up on the ottoman.

Roasting Notes:

Four ounces of Papua New Guinea Purosa beans were dried for two minutes at a low temperature with a high fan. Moving the fan to medium, the beans were roasted on medium heat for eight minutes. The final two minutes of roasting, the heat was turned to high. After seven and a half minutes elapsed the first crack was heard. With a minute remaining, the second crack like the sound of a dozen knuckles cracking was heard.

It was a beautiful brown bean with a sheen. A true full city roast.