Resslin' Around, by Casey Ressler

Whatever happened to a good cup of black coffee? Did you know coffee isn't even black anymore, according to some local "foo-foo" coffee drinkers?

When asked if I'd do a recent bagel run for the office, I obliged. But then the orders started pouring in from those who have lost sight of what coffee really is. One person wanted a white chocolate almond roca mocha, while another ordered a sugar-free coconut latte. I'm not sure if those are coffee drinks or if they are tropical drinks served in pineapples -- you know, the kind where you can drink seven or eight of them on the beach, and then you stand up and forget where you put your legs. I have a no coffee rule when I'm picking up food for people. I say that the rule is because more often than not, the foo-foo coffees end up on the floor of my truck. I'm not a fanatic about my truck, but the smell alone of white chocolate almond roca mocha makes me sick. The real reason, though, is simple -- embarrassment.

I think your credibility gets erased the minute you order a "skinny raspberry pineapple mocha."

These foo-foo drinkers have completely taken over the coffee world. Now, if you like black coffee, you are screwed, because nobody knows how to do it anymore.

Recently, my grandparents were up here for a visit from Pennsylvania. We were getting coffee at one local shop, and my grandpa asked for a cup of black coffee. The clerk looked astonished.

"Do you mean an espresso?" she asked.

"No, just a cup of coffee is fine," my grandpa told her.

"Well, we don't have just a pot of black coffee. I can make you a Cafe Americano, which is just like black coffee," the barista replied.

So Papa got a Cafe Americano and nearly fell over when the girl behind the counter basically asked for his next social security check to cover the bill. It may taste like black coffee, but it's got a funny sounding name that brings with it a hefty price tag.

"Perfect," I thought. "A coffee shop that doesn't sell coffee. My life will be officially ruined when the fly shop adopts that philosophy and quits selling flies."

On the rare occasion that a coffee shop really does sell simple black coffee for less than a buck a cup, check out the attitude of the person ringing your sale up on the register.

It's like you are putting them out by your preference to not include every sugary syrup on their shelf in your coffee.

"Just a regular, old cup of coffee," one girl said while she was ringing me up yesterday.

When your cup of coffee costs more than your entire breakfast, maybe you have a drinking problem. Get back to the basics, and you'll find true happiness in the bottom of a "regular, old cup of coffee."

Casey Ressler (valleylife@frontiersman.com) is the Valley Life editor. He admits to having once been a foo-foo drinker who enjoyed raspberry mochas, but he saw the light five years ago and now enjoys his coffee thick and black.