I couldn't resist. The exotic and intoxicating aroma in the air grabbed my attention. I swiveled in my bar seat and while saying "Do you mind?" grabbed a fellow bar patron's bag. Not a purse or anything. A bag of beans. Coffee beans. Stumptown Coffee Beans.
One deep inhale and I knew I needed more than its perfume.
Although brewing a pot right there at my local watering hole was tempting, I opted for restraint. Instead, the next morning I journeyed to Cobble Hill's Cafe Pedlar for a taste of the java divine.
Divine it was. So divine that a single brilliant Latte -- as pictured above -- wasn't enough. I bought my own bag.
Coach and Kate Spade be damned. A bag of Stumptown Coffee Beans is where it's at.
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