Got time for a story?

Along with tasting notes, our coffees come with memory notes—a mouthful of words to contextualize what you’re drinking.

Epilogue

You might call it a turnpike 
And me a toll gate
But at least we’re in the same car

You might call it malted chocolate
And me Horlicks
But I’m so pleased we’re drinking it together

You might say six fifty-two
And me ten to seven
But what a relief to be sharing a time zone

You might say we need golden raisins
And I’ll say what, like sultanas?
But it’s a miracle to be in this baking aisle with you

Despite all the semantics 
For the cross-continental romantics
When either of us says I love you
It means just that