Jamaican Me Crazy

The thing about flavoured coffee is that it smells much better than it tastes. I know. I've tried many a caramel, vanilla, fudge toffee varieties with and without dessert and in my opinion they are just not coffee. They may be a confection similar to coffee, or a hot coffee-like treat, but the act of adding any flavour to the coffee bean immediately negates it's "coffee"designation and enjoyability factor, or so I used to think.

Walks in friend and unassuming coffee saboteur Bonnie, a few years ago at book club, and in one fell swoop changes my previously held views on the above position a full 179 degrees (all other flavoured coffees are still taboo as far as I'm concerned). After spending the last hour or so, gushing over the genius of Abraham Verghese's Cutting for Stone, the book club contingent sat relaxed in the afterglow of good conversation while she innocently slipped an unassuming looking cup of Jamaican Me Crazy to our unsuspecting taste buds.

That has been at least two years ago. I can not count the number of times I have stopped by every Winners and Home Sense in my path just to check out their coffee section to see if this ground gold was sitting on the shelf. It appears a few times a year and then again performs a disappearing act for several months at a time. I have been known to empty their entire supply on occasion and stash it in my freezer for safe keeping.

Here it was two weeks before Christmas and several months had gone by without a sighting of Lansing Michigan's own Paramount Coffee's, Jamaican Me Crazy. Perhaps this is one reason I have found myself rather stressed of late. I asked the elfish shelf-stockers about it on more than one occasion as Christmas drew closer and was met with a smirk and a rolling of the eyes. Apparently a few employees in the know had their antennas set on Jamaica as stock came into the store. A couple of days ago, my coffee addiction received it's early Christmas present. Two pouches of the Jamaican gold sat waiting for me as innocently as sprinkles on a doughnut. I snatched up both and rummaged through the entire shelf just to make sure the elves were not up to their irritating tricks. Two, just two 340 gram packages to do me through the holidays.

My name is Eva and I am an addict. Thanks a lot Bonnie.