Saturday, January 17, 2009

GranCoffee Roasting Co

GranCoffee Roasting Co. announces plan to launch a new blend, the Dasclaly, a coffee with distinction of flavor yet with broad appeal. The new blend is a development of the GranCoffee team.

Coffee Makers

A new generation of coffee makers is on its way in. Interest in home brewing techniques and the ultimate holy grail of the "perfect cup" drive interest for state of the art coffee makers.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Alzheimer's and Coffee

Drinking coffee reduces the risk of Alzheimer's according to a study by Finnish and Swedish researchers reports Yahoo news.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20090115/hl_afp/swedenfinlandhealthcoffeealzheimersresearch_20090115154721

GranCoffee Roasting Co., a specialized roaster of specialty coffee in Athens,GA, picked up on the trend of health benefits of coffee and are re-launching Georgia Blend, a medium roasted blend rich in flavor and a smooth finish. The re-designed blend comes with a health note drawing the attention of consumers to potential health benefits of coffee.

www.grancoffee.com
www.boldroast.blogspot.com

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Snack Time

Snack Time

 

There was a reasonable systematic rigor to playing marbles on the beaten dirt sidewalks of Rio Claro in the interior of Brazil, if you were a seasoned player. With flair and deliberate hand movements suggesting even somewhat of a ritual, the top dog player would pull a spoon out of his pocket. Then he would carefully trace the playing diamond on the bare ground. The dirt was beaten to a hard surface from repetitive rain, walking, and even sweeping. It was customary for house ladies to sweep the dirt sidewalk. After the diamond was traced, the player would carve a two inch wide and a one inch deep hole in the dirt at the corners of the diamond. Those were the bases. With care he would then take out any excess dirt from the holes using his fingers. A sweeping motion with the palm of his hand indicated the base was ready. Three other players, while squatting, watched in close attention. Not every player had the finesse of owning a dedicated spoon for marble games. Now the teams had already been selected. This day, José and Martins were playing against Ricardo and Fernando. It was not uncharacteristic that José and Martins, who came from poorer backgrounds played together against Ricardo and Fernando Oliveira, two brothers from a reasonably well to do family. The separation of classes filtered all the way down even to marbles on a dirt surface. José however was the one with the spoon. Being proficient and proactive in marble games was as much part José's and Martins' identity as being sons of the town doctor was to the Oliveira brothers. In their own right the Oliveira's were different inasmuch as they would even play with José and Martins. Families of doctors, lawyers and other prominent families would customarily avoid having much to do with the lower class, much less, allow their sons to play marbles with neighborhood nobodies.

 

 José's flair in rolling his fingers to spit out the carefully selected marble would certainly become legendary if this game had viewers. The game was just kid's play. You wouldn't think so though, judging by the discipline and method with which José and Martins applied themselves to this activity. It amused Ricardo that José and Martins but specially José would go to such extend and dedication. The Oliveira's dim competitiveness was no match to José's zeal. Passerby's, unconcerned, sidestepped the boys who, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings, focused only on the game and as much, blocked the whole width of the sidewalk directly in front of Dona Cândida's front door. One reason the played there was because the sidewalk on the other side of the street was paved: it didn't work for marble games. The other reason was that Dona Cândida, the laundresses, did not complain about the boys digging holes on her sidewalk. Sometimes she would even step out and check on the boys to make sure they weren't getting in trouble, starting a fight, or putting themselves in danger by stepping out onto the street. Never mind only an occasional horse drawn carriage would pass by during most sleepy afternoons.

 

Ricardo's thoughts were not as focused on the game as José's and Martins. Fernando was more diligent though then Ricardo. He was playing by the rules and keeping up against the other boy's challenges. This particular day, but not uncharacteristically, Ricardo's thought at three o'clock in the afternoon was already leaning towards "what's for snack". It was a luxury. Obviously it didn't cross his mind this day as it didn't most days, that this sort of thought wasn't even a possibility for José and Martins. Not that the two boys from the lower class were undernourished. They were plenty healthy but their mom worked all day as a maid for some wealthy lady in town and their day was brick mason. They ate when their mother arrived late afternoon and cooked the usual rice and beans. The Oliveira's by contrast, were duly pampered. As the afternoon came around to three o'clock aroma of popcorn started to waft through the house and coffee aroma came just behind. A predisposition to mid-afternoon snacks set the tone of most afternoons. Game or no game when that time came around the pull of the stomach was strong. Of course José and Martins were not in the same frame of mind or spirit as three o'clock approached. They were fully dedicated to their game and totally immersed in it. Much to their chagrin, Ricardo was already beginning to fade out his enthusiasm for the game.

 

The maid's call had a sweet familiarity. Her call would instantly trigger the propensity and lust for food and good tastes: she only called at meal times. Ricardo and Fernando stood up from their strategic positions around the marble diamond field and with a feeling of content turned around to cross the street. From having played marbles with the Oliveira's so many times, José had gotten used to the routine. Fair to them it wasn't always like that quite frankly he thought. Many times they would linger around much longer. But so what, that's just the way things were, besides he would continue to play against his brother and the two of them would have just as much fun.

 

Ricardo on the other hand was already thinking about the popcorn. Oh, but this day there was also some fresh milk delivered by horse carriage just a while ago. Heated fresh milk and coffee was one of those things that kept mid afternoon snacks so interesting. The maid used generous helpings of sugar in her coffee and milk. But Ricardo preferred it not so sweet. Anyhow, no mid afternoon snack was complete without coffee and milk, or more properly said, "café com leite".

 

 

*****

 

It is an amazing world we live in and boy are we not thankful for coffee and so many other things. At GranCoffee we are. And we are glad that coffee is a small but enjoyable part of our days and of many people. We hope you have a wonderful year 2009. We look forward to a year rich in experiences, stories, and much to thank for.

 

 

Ed Lane

GranCoffee Roasting Co.

706 769 1996 or 770 842 5027

 

 

 

Thursday, January 01, 2009

A Letter of News

THERE IS HOPE - Dec 27, 2008

 

After checking off four dozen items on our Christmas gift list, dispatching hundreds of pounds of products in our Mom and Pop business, staving off the perils of unemployment while the economy went down the tubes, appearing in court, preparing for an Agriculture Department audit,  re-checking the Christmas list to make sure we didn't forget anybody, and choosing between a yellow bulldozer with a black wheel and front loader for one child and a yellow bulldozer with a black wheel with a fork loader for another child, getting the car towed to the shop one day before Christmas, and making three attempts at writing a decent newsletter (I saved the drafts for future use in case I run desperate), we finally arrived at: … the day "after" Christmas. I don't think Jesus meant it to be like this. But listen we are not complaining, activity is, more often than not, a positive thing as long as we don't let it unravel into an abyss of disruptive dysfunctionality.


So here we are three days after Christmas and no newsletter. Well that is until my wife brilliantly cobbled together and committed to paper a true story that really counts. A story that makes Christmas. A story of redemption at its simplest terms. This story starts 4,500 miles away in the dusty back streets of Rio Verde, an agricultural back water in central Brazil.  Never mind we had a great year, not devoid of some of the most challenging times of our lives (and that is before world economies started to crumble away from under us), yet full of victories and much to thank for. Our many kids kept having more kids, our pets kept demanding more food, our grass more cutting, do-it-yourself repairs more demanding for a less than optimally agile body, and bills more abundant… and, this statement is a sanitized one. More real is something like this: first day of 2008 I received a call that my boss was in the hospital in critical condition, I ran the company I was working for three months while he recovered; in May the company was taken over by new ownership with whom, putting in mild terms, I did not see eye to eye; in September I was out of a job; in October the economy went into tailspin; in November Lynn joined forces with me to pull our business by the bootstraps. Probably not by coincidence to the times, yet not by rational design, I started spending comfortable time reading and maybe studying parts of the fascinating book of Leviticus, a bloody book where the appearance of deathly mess is nothing but the reaffirmation of life in the context of the season with are now celebrating, i.e., Christmas. Parallel though, our son David, found doctors he likes, improved his condition dramatically by learning how to manage his condition, found a job he really likes just half an hour away, and bought himself a computer and a car. Not to mention he runs a b-line to his girlfriend's parents' home every available opportunity. Enough of the every day, every time, I did this, I did that, and somewhat else this year. Now, into the real deal:

 

 

NEW HOPE

By Lynn S. Lane

 

Eight years ago Kristy and Andrew Jennings went to Brazil with a desire to make a contribution to whatever town they ended up settling in. Andrew's job at the time took them to Rio Verde in sun baked central plains of the state of Goias near the nation's capital.

 

In Rio Verde they discovered a need for helping street children so they opened a home for boys who had been abandoned by their families and who were living out on the streets. They started with three boys. Andrew drove around town at night or early morning and found boys sleeping on cardboards, huddled in corners of buildings or wherever they could find shelter. He went up to them and asked them if they would like to visit a farm and may be live there. Three of the boys accepted. One of them, Bruno was the first one who wanted to live at the farm then called "New Hope Village". He could not read or write his name. Kristy was shocked and grief stricken when Bruno told them his story and of all the abuse and rejection he had already gone through in such a short life – I think he was about nine years old. They put him in school, bought him clothes, took him to the dentist and doctor, and took him to church. They would also read the Bible to him and told him about someone who loves him very much named Jesus. They told him about how Jesus had also suffered and had been unjustly rejected by his people.

 

 Bruno as well as the boys who followed to live at "New Hope Village" thrived in their new environment. They learned to read and write. They took care of gardens, cows, sheep and played soccer. Their house parents, a couple dedicated to looking after the boys, treated them with respect, discipline and love. When Bruno turned ten, the Jennings and the House parents held a surprise birthday party for him. When he saw the cake he was so shocked it was for him, he turned around and ran out of the room. Andrew ran after him and convinced him to come back which he did.

 

Bruno is now eighteen and getting ready to live in town and go to a local technical school whose leaders have agreed to provide free tuition for the boys from the "Village of Hope".

 

So that is their story. There are many more. Andrew and Kristy have struggled with scarcity of funds, currency ups and downs and various trials. They don't have many venues to raise funds. Right now they don't even have a phone line and computer in their house. Nevertheless there are twelve boys whose lives are being fundamentally transformed. They now have hope whereas on the streets they were hopeless.

 

 

 

I hope you have a wonderful New Year. With love and greetings from,

 

Edward and Lynn S. Lane



www.grancoffee.com
www.freshcoffee.blogspot.com

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