Every weekend, my husband takes my daughter, and sometimes our college son if he's home, to Starbucks early, early in the morning. In a cold car. In pre-dawn, frigid Indiana. They love this time with their dad, but they love the "stuff" there, too. Now, I love coffee, hence the words in the header, but I'm not fancy about it. I'll drink anything. Instant. McDonald's. Church coffee bar. And Dunkin Donuts.
And I'm a pretty down-to-earth girl. Hence also, I like the words, "Small, medium, and large." Maybe even an occasinal "Supersize." But talles and grandes and venti-ays and whoop-i-oh-ays, they just confuse me. (In fact, I stopped volunteering at our church coffee bar because the terminology and making specialties for people waiting in long lines freaked me out.)
And the names ... "espresso con pannas" and "macchiatos." Help.
It's all good stuff. I don't turn down Starbucks (Marina!), but something in me just resonates with this Dunkin Donuts commercial. Because sometimes, the best pastry is just a funky old donut, and the best coffee is plain ol' joe. Maybe I should've named the blog, "2nd Cup O' Joe."