Few smells are more intoxicating than that of an expertly pulled espresso, but the aroma produced by roasting coffee beans may be better. This weekend I (finally) made it to a coffee class at John Roos's coffee roasting operation. I picked up a few Cuiziners on the way and after a quick turnaround at the Lotus factory, we walked through the door and into a cloud of roasting-coffee faerie-dust. It took a few minutes, but that smell really makes you fly.

John and Brian—who often wears a vest—were waiting for us. The three of us had arrived a little earlier, so we saw the first batch of Rich French Neighbor poor out of the enormous Diedrich roaster. Coffee beans undergo an amazing transformation during roasting. They start as small green beans with a bright earthy smell. During the roast, which takes about 20 minutes for a dark roast like Rich French Neighbor, the beans double in size and bloom with all the complex odors that make coffee wonderful.

About fifteen came to the class. We were all a little quiet at first—blame Sunday morning, or maybe the others had starved themselves of caffeine to prepare, as I had. With every cup of coffee the morning became a little brighter and the group livened up. After the first round of coffee we broke into the food. John made homemade muffins and quiche and we had bagels with salmon and smoked herring. Another cup of coffee, a history of coffee through the ages, another cup, a demonstration of the Aeropress, and just one more little cup, a chat about food distribution, then a taste of someone else's brew...here the whole event seems a little blurry. Not the fog of a night of heavy drinking, but a light airy haze that makes it a little hard to remember how I got home. I do remember that at some point John pulled out the decaf.

I won't describe the coffee hangover that followed.