Coffee Epiphany: Dogwood Coffee Co

Story time.  A few weeks ago I was in Minneapolis doing top secret and mysterious things, the most important of which was shoving delicious food into my largest head orifice.  A buddy joined me and we ended up at this joint, which was filled to the rafters with brilliant and amazing comestibles.  After the meal we were forced at gunpoint to order dessert and some coffee to go with it.  Quick aside, it was tres leches cake and it was crazy good.  It came sitting in a bowl of sweetened milk, like a fortress of moist, frosted cake surrounded by a tiny moat.

But I digress.  The coffee arrived and we were so mesmerized by the cake that we didn’t even glance at it before taking a sip.  And then we forgot all about the cake.  Okay, maybe we didn’t forget it completely, but eyebrows went up and yummy noises were made.  It was the best coffee I’ve had so far, no exaggeration, and that includes fancy preparations with exotic equipment from snooty coffee bars.

We found out that it came from a local roaster called Dogwood Coffee and we reminisced fondly about it every time we had coffee after that.  Normally that would be the end of it.  Dogwood Coffee is in the distant northlands above Texas, which may as well be on the moon as far as my coffee needs go, so I figured I’d just remember to get a cup the next time I was in Minneapolis and count myself lucky.

But to my surprise, that buddy of mine (who is now my best friend ever until this bag runs out), shipped me this delightful care package:

The bag contains pure gold. And by gold I mean beans.

Sadly, being a coffee luddite, I had no way to turn the precious beans within into drinkable coffee.  I briefly considered rocks and a frenzied bout of smashing and yelling, but my wife talked me down before it was too late.  Since I wasn’t allowed to improvise I turned to Amazon and got this:

Beans go in. Bean flinders come out.

I’m going to be honest with you here.  I’ve never ground beans before in my life and the novelty wore off in about a hundred cranks.  The results were excellent, but I’m a right lazy bastard.  If anyone besides my own brain had suggested I work to get my first cup of coffee…well, let’s just say it would be greatest episode of Cops ever filmed.  But I persevered and was rewarded with glorious, usable coffee grounds:

You actually can buy happiness. You just have to grind it up yourself.

Then I whomped everything into my beloved Aeropress:

Aeropress + PA Mug. Accept no substitutes.

Quick note about the Aeropress.  I absolutely cannot believe this thing costs like twenty-six bucks.  It cleans up in five seconds (eject coffee grounds in puck form -pop- rinse in sink – done) and the coffee is amazing.  Check out how many coffee shops have put up reviews and tutorials on YouTube.  You don’t see a lot of cheap but awesome gadgets in this life, but I assure you, this is one of them.

Waiting to plunge. Not pictured: me hopping from foot to foot and yelling STEEP at the top of my lungs.

You have no idea how hard it was to take this picture before taking the first sip.  I basically just snapped off a quick one and threw down my camera without checking to make sure it looked good.  That’s quality blogging right there.

I made some noises I’m not proud of when I drank this. Don’t care, had coffee.

Was it good?  Was it worth the endless grinding and complaining?  Yeah, totally.  I’m gonna drink all these beans and then I’m going to order more from the distant lands of Minnesota.  And Cthulhu help me, I’m gonna grind every single one of them, too.