Mother of All Mavens

A whole lot o' nothing. And then someā€¦

World Cup fever has taken over the asylum. It’s everywhere. Me, I’m rooting for England – but only because I used to live there and fancy myself a bit of a Brit. I like Italy too – for obvious reasons (have you seen the Italian football team?! Stunners, the lot of ’em.) I also support Brazil. I kinda feel like they’re the real winners, so why not jump on the bandwagon early?

OK. Truth be told, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about any of it. Yep, that’s me – TOTAL non-sports fan – (except Leafer hockey. I’m a glutton for punishment.) But soccer/football? Uh, no thanks. Sure the little flags waving out of everyone’s window are sweet. That kind of patriotism is somewhat palatable. But to sit around and watch a game that really only gets going at the very end? Pass.

A few weeks ago I was the recipient of a Tassimo coffee machine. It’s actually less a machine than, well, a way of life. I have a friend who thinks she’s Oprah:when she falls in love with something, she gives it away on her show. Only she doesn’t have show. Nor does she have the resources for massive giveaways. Instead, she simply credits Ms O for the magnanimous gesture concept, chooses a (small) (very small) handful of fans and bestows the mystery gift on them. And I was one of the lucky ones.
What the f&ck does that have to do with football, you ask?

“Tassimo” – how Italiano. Made by Braun – German, right? Suchard hot choc – Francais, n’est ce pas? Coffees by Nabob and Maxwell House – the down home conglomerates serving up South American blends. The tea – English of course (well, probably more Indian but y’know what I mean. It’s tea. It tastes English.) Put ’em all together….The results? A World Cup…of coffee. Geddit?

I know it’s a stretch, but so what?

I was a skeptic at first. Sure, I feigned delight when I opened the box, but secretly I found the whole thing too car dealership-ish for my liking. In fact last time I had my oil changed I think I used a Tassimo – I just didn’t know it yet. The machine has these little discs with bar codes. It reads the codes and presto – perfect cuppa, every time. There’s also something of the office coffee pot about it. And yet, a flip of the switch and you’re done.
My man fell for it from the start. It was techy, it was easy, it was tasty. Sold! I, however, had to be convinced. I became a tourist, trying out every single disc in every single combo – name your Starbuckian term – I tried making it on my Tassimo. Before I knew it, I was a barista, and I was hooked. My house had become java central. Y’know how every house has its own particular small? Ours became roasted coffee beans.
I’ve since calmed down. And I’ve narrowed down the discs worth driving for (cappucino, espresso, and cafe crema). And I’m not as jittery or shaky as those early heady days… Just happily caffienated.
The Tassimo express is leaving the station. So hop on board ‘cuz if you think those discs are selling like hotcakes (‘n coffee) now, wait ’til Oprah hears about it….


Anonymous said…

I cannot be convinced. i am a purest and I know you LOVE my latees!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *