Of Baseball and Coffee

I have a goal for this year.
Well, several, actually.

This comes as no surprise to those of you who know me well.


I have lived just outside of Rochester for roughly 27.5 months (not consecutively, mind you), but I have yet to experience some of the best things that the city has to offer. It's not that I haven't had opportunities to do things, it's that I've chosen not to. (My favorite excuse usually contains one of the following words: homework, chemistry, exam, or Dr. Enich*.) But this year is the year.

*Name changed to protect the privacy and reputation of the parties involved.

This is the year to do something or go somewhere that is unique to Rochester at least once each week that school is in session from now until I graduate. This is the year to get homework done early so that I have time to enjoy life. This is the year to live intentionally (and take advantage of having a car to drive).

The first weekend of school I went to a Rochester Red Wings game. It was a little cold and rainy, but there were several rainbows during the course of the game.

(Please excuse the poor image quality. My two-year-old phone is on its last legs.)

Brenda, the campus mom and Assistant Dean for Student Programming extraordinaire, held up her Roberts umbrella and said, "Now you can get both the rainbow and Roberts!"

This past weekend I got up at 5:30am (on a Saturday - GASP!) to experience the Rochester Public Market in all its glory. I had been before, but not recently.

I'm pretty sure these quesitos are my favorite thing to buy. These sweet, cheesy delights taste kind of like a cheese danish...only so much more delicious.



Apparently it's the number one public market in America, or something like that.

On the way out, I stopped at this somewhat sketch coffee shop. There was no sign, but the double doors were both swung open and the place looked pretty cozy. Two Asian women were working. When I ordered a coffee with just sugar, one of them looked at me and said, "No, we bring you cream, too. You white girls not used to this strong coffee." It was all I could do to keep from laughing. I love strong coffee, but it turns out she was right - it was too strong for me. The way she made it fascinated me, though.
She had a tall mug-height net made out of what appeared to be cheesecloth. She filled it to the brim with coffee grinds, then poured about half a mug's worth of hot water through it. She caught the strained water (now looking like coffee) in the mug and poured it back through the filter/grinds a second time. This time, it came out looking dark. Finally, she filled the remainder of the mug with hot water. My first impression was that the extra water was going to dilute the coffee like crazy, but evidently I was wrong. It was the strongest coffee I have ever tasted in my life--and I've tried a lot of different coffee.

And that, dear friends, is all I have time for tonight.