August 27, 2010
from the comments
Last week I bought a pound of French Roast at a Starbucks inside a grocery store and the very young lady who did the grinding apparently didn’t know what the instruction “for a paper cone filter, please” meant. She dumped it in and the machine ran, with her looking at it, for about ten minutes. Finally she closed the bag and gave it to me. When I opened it at home is was ground so fine as to be shaped into clods and and other shapes. I’m using it but it sort of tastes like a speed freak’s idea of a slow elevator ride.
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