I refuse to call myself a coffee snob but I do know a damn good cup of coffee when I taste one. On the suggestion of a friend I zipped through Portland with my sis to check out Coava Coffee Roasters on Grand. There’s something undeniably spectacular about a truly well crafted cup. It’s art. Growing the beans just so, roasting them with just the preferred heat, warming the milk, pulling the shots, pouring the actual cup. No step is less or more important and all are working as a symphony. Sure, I love getting something peppermint mocha-y at Starbucks in December but this, this is something different that being a Northwesterner I feel required to partake in and am so lucky to do so. The people over at Coava treat the coffee bean with such respect. The ingredient is taken to a place where you savor each sip and feel just a tinge of sadness when it’s over. But don’t worry, you can always get another cup tomorrow.