i should have known

as soon as i declared so loudly how great my coffee was, that i doomed myself to never really knowing what I was drinking.

i went and checked my roasting log, and of course i was drinking a leftovers blend: a bunch of different beans left over from other roasts, mixed together then roasted. i recall that most of them were central/southern american and only one was african, but otherwise, I have no clue.

good coffee, like good life, is fleeting and impossible to reproduce.