The Waialua Sugar Mill was not on the honeymoon itinerary. Even so, it seemed like a good break between the shark cage and the volcano tours. The north shore of Oahu has a way of helping you forget your schedule.
The Sugar Mill had a few surprises. Somewhere between the surfboard shack and souvenir shop was a cocoa bean tasting. I'll try that. A slimy orange seed was served and there was no turning back. I gulped it down. A confused look from others helped me remember that I don't need to swallow the seed. Maybe I should switch to something more my speed.
Two cups of coffee grown on Sugar Mill grounds were presented, one "washed" and the other "natural." Those distinctions weren't on my Keurig cups. But I'll try it, why not. The difference was acute. How come I hadn't heard about this? There's a lot of personality in each cup. "I could do this," I thought.
As we toured the island in our rented Jeep, I found myself stopping on the side of the road. Kona coffee trees lined the sloping hillside. "You know you can't pick that right," Mel said. Following her obvious guidance, I found a local coffee farm where I could ask more.
"Didn't I marry a Brazilian? Don't they have coffee there?" As the beachy pace of life in the Pacific grinded my New York sensibilities, I found myself imagining a chaotic and international endeavor. I wanted to bring a piece of my wife's home in Bauru, São Paulo to the United States. What better way to show her I appreciate her?
Over time, I had learned more than I cared to know about coffee. It turns out most of the coffee I had been drinking was of an industrial variety. Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts, Keurig, and others had mastered the art of nonchalantly joining beans from around the world and roasting them deeply. I still liked this coffee, but clearly saw that the actual taste of the coffee was lost in the mix. I couldn't get Mel her hometown coffee that way. It was time for a change.
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