Really Good Roasts Novels & Stories

"There is an argument that the entire political history of the Eastern Empire is an argument about who controlled the commission." Ernest poured his coffee. The coffee was from the roaster in the town—the one Don had found in the third year and had been ordering from ever since, because Don was loyal to sources that had proven themselves. The coffee was dark and rich and had the particular quality of coffee that had been roasted recently enough to remember it was coffee. Ernest had learned, over six years, to taste the difference between coffee that had been roasted last week and coffee that had been roasted last month. He had not learned this intentionally. He had learned it by drinking cof

I muttered at no one. “Did you say something?” Aunt Carol appeared at my elbow with a bag of tomatoes, looking at me. “Nothing,” I said, dropping the ribeye into the basket. “I got the steak.” “Ribeye?” she asked, peering in. “Yeah,” I said. “Apparently it’s the better cut.” “It absolutely is,” she said, already moving on. “I’ve been saying that for years.”

I swear the shadows are following me as I walk to work, yet I feel protected and safe with them. The smell of coffee surrounds me and I sip a Roasted-Toasted black. Roasted-Toasted is my special headache flavor, it is half French roast and half toasted almond coffee. It’s warm and inviting like a hug, yet bitter like the taste on my tongue after my arguments with Kyle. “Shit! Flavor of the Day is Roasty-Toasty! It’s that bad, huh?” Lee observes.

She took the glass and took a sip of it. The Jackfruit juice was sweet and fresh. Jasmine smiled so wide that Aria was afraid to see her grinning like that. "Let's eat! You've probably never tried marbled roast beef, right? This is the best and most expensive grilled meat. It will melt in your mouth.” Jasmine cut the roast meat and put it in her mouth in an elegant manner. Aria scoffed. She already knew that Jasmine must have called her because she wanted to insult her too. “Of course, I've eaten that. Our chef grilled it for me.” She said casually without touching the food at all.

I offered, stepping aside and gesturing toward the door. Rue hesitated only for a heartbeat, then nodded. “Sure.” The moment we sat down, I waved at the waiter to warm the cups of coffee I had earlier ordered. She brought them back in two minutes. When the coffee arrived, Rue took a single sip—and froze. Then her eyes lifted, locking onto mine. “This isn’t your average blend.” “Oh?” “It’s the red bean variety,” she said matter-of-factly. “You can tell by the acidity—low but sharp—and that burnt caramel aftertaste.”

I nodded, “Yeah. That’s also why I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off yesterday.” I walked to the ovens and put my oven mitts on. I pulled out the first roaster and basted the prime rib roast inside. I took out my meat thermometer and read it; one hundred thirty degrees… perfect. I pulled it out and put the roaster on the burners. I took the roast out and put it on a platter, then made au jus with some of the drippings, them beef gravy with the rest. I started slicing the roast and Luna Kate took a slice. She smiled and nodded, “That’s perfect.” She gave half the slice to Alpha Ben. He smiled, “That’s awesome!” Luna Kate added, “I’m going to go ahead and order lunch. We n

Nicole looked at them with disdain and scorn in her eyes, her powerful persona irrefutable. “This coffee bean is roasted using the internationally famous Floeze Roast extremely deep roasting method so that the roasted coffee beans have a strong aroma, smooth taste but not sour. It brews a unique café au lait. I don’t know if you have heard of the principle that less is more. Often, the simpler the roasting method, the better the coffee, and coffee beans that have gone through over a dozen processes are probably just a pile of charcoal.” “Charcoal?” Everyone was stunned. Looking at the three girls who spoke just now, they thought about it carefully. It seemed that what Nicole had said made se

"I really like Brussels sprouts, actually. Is that weird?" "Not at all," I assured her, steering the cart towards the leafy greens. "Brussels sprouts it is. We'll roast them with some balsamic vinegar and honey. You'll love it." As we made our way through the store, our cart slowly filled with a mishmash of ingredients. Organic, grass-fed ribeye steaks for grilling. A wheel of imported Parmigiano-Reggiano that Dad insisted was "the only real Parmesan." A loaf of crusty sourdough from the in-house bakery. Bottles of cold-pressed olive oil and aged balsamic vinegar.

Chastity smiled shyly at him. “I will. On one condition.” Colby said. “What condition?” Chastity asked sadly. “Tell me how the hell you make your coffee so good. Every other coffee tastes like shit compared to yours.” Colby grumbled. “Really?” Chastity laughed. “Hell yes! The only good coffee is yours. All the rest is crap.” “Fine. One spoon of french roast, one spoon of hazelnut, and one spoon of dark roast. But them in a container, shake it well, then dump in the filter, and start.”

Mid-chew, Luken froze. “What is this?” Shock dripped from his voice. “B-breakfast,” Rosen said carefully, his heart sinking as he suddenly feared that he’d used the wrong spice or burned the meat. “Is it bad?” “This is the best thing I’ve eaten in months,” Luken declared, taking another massive bite. Tears of relief nearly sprang to his eyes. After spending the entire night enduring Killian’s volcanic temper and patching up Ciel’s burned, bleeding body, this warm meal felt like a gift from heaven. “Were you a professional chef or something? I could eat this every single day!”