I always found the you say potato I say potahto argument prevalent in my life.
What I used to find funny some found disturbed. What you laughed at made me cry inside from the pain it caused the ones being ridiculed.
As a cook I’ve always mashed canned foods with the most celebrated produce, middle finger high to the sky because I found it delicious. It’s what I grew up around. I’m that other guy..
This is Obed. He’s my dude. He’s from Guatemala. In Guatemala they call each other Chapin. It means brethren.
I’ve been on a coffee kick like the rest of us. No hate here. So I always ask him about the single origin, shade grown, Antigua, organic, Fair Trade, strictly hard bean (SHB), Guatemalan bean, grown in volcanic soil.
He always says, “Huh?”
Then I explain in my broken Spanish. Then he says, “Huh?” I explain more.
Then he says, “Oh yeah, that’s where we used to take pisses as kids and hide out.”
He drinks NesCafe. As does probably almost everyone from Guatemala. It’s funny how something that are like just bushes to them became such high currency to the world. It’s even funnier that they don’t even like the taste of that $12 cup of Chemex single hard bean. It’s the single hardest riddle in our humanity.
Blood for diamonds. Tomato Tomahto.
I drink both.
NesCafe with Guatemalans.
And Guatemalan with Americans.