"So you'll add to the local color
Serving coffee with a cruller
Dunkin' doesn't take a lot of skill
They've got an awful lot of coffee
An awful lot of coffee..."
- Frank Sinatra, The Coffee Song

Computer scientists go through coffee like starved pigs through a corpse. We're talking about an entire breed of human that sits in front of a brightly lit screen for about 18 of the 24 hours in a given day and needs to match wits with a machine that never tires and is completely unfeeling. It's not that we need something to take the edge off, it's that we need something to put the edge back on so that we can use it to cut into the work load.

Well, down in the Oceanography Labs, we're perfecting the formula. A while back, we read about Black Blood of the Earth- a cold-brewed, vacuum-extracted, highly concentrated version of coffee, purporting to have 40x the amount of caffeine in a comparably sized amount of regular coffee. This got us to thinking- we're scientists, we have the tools, we have the talent- surely, we can do this. Thus began the Great Cold Brew Experiment of 2012.

The way we make coffee is a step up from what I was used to in my last workplace (i.e, instant coffee). We have a bean grinder (formerly espresso machine), so we buy loose, whole beans and tear them up. Then we put it all in a French Press and let it sit. The thing about hot coffee is that it's got a lot of acid in it. The hot water frees up the flavour and the caffeine, but it also releases a lot of nasty stuff that gives coffee its bite. Now, in the morning, I like that bite. That's what gets me rolling, sets the wheels a turnin'. I like angry coffee in the morning. But by the afternoon, I'm not looking for that same kind of grab-you-by-the-collar-and-twist energy that I want when I'm coming in to work. I like a little buzz, but I'm already awake, dig?

That's where cold brewing comes in. You have to let it steep for longer, but the cold water will release the flavour and the caffeine without the sharpness that comes from the acid. It's smoother, and it goes down easier. It doesn't play hell with your stomach, and it doesn't screw up your tooth enamel.

Now, there are some technicalities. To do it proper, you need a container that's nearly vacuum-sealed. We're using mason jars right now. And, like I said, you have to let it steep for longer. We usually go at least a day, going any shorter requires a ton of beans, and we don't want to rip through the entire bag. Also, this stuff really does have much more caffeine than a normal cup of coffee, and if you're not careful, it can put you under. And then over again. And then under again.

So, at the start of this week, we made three jars of cold-brew: one to drink the next day, one for the day after that, and one for the day after that- today. We'd used a dark roast bean, since the lower overall caffeine levels would be safer.

On schedule, we cracked the seal on the 24 hour jar- myself, Jack and Reynault (two of the other coffee drinkers) all took part. And it was quite good! Reynault remarked that it smelled like ratatouille, though I didn't get any of that. It was definitely smoother, and about as strong as a regular cup of coffee. When heated to a nice, even temperature, it was very drinkable.

Thus emboldened, on the next day, all four of us popped the lid on the 48-hour jar. That's where things got weird. We all had a little more than we intended, and although it was quite good (it had a bit of a tomato-ish tang, but I think that was the bean, not the process), the results on my psyche were pretty pronounced. I couldn't focus on work at all, read one blog post about Christian Nationalism, and spent the rest of the day furious at everything. I barely slept that night, and hauled myself in to work the next morning haggard, tired, and barely awake enough to make that first pot of morning coffee. Jack remarked that he had played softball the previous night and hit multiple triples (where you run three bases), convinced that some otherworldly force was spurring him on.

Now, at the time of writing, it's 10:30 on Friday morning. We're going to open the lid on the 72 hour jar at 2:30 this afternoon, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared. It's not just that there's enough caffeine in there to give even a seasoned wirehead pause. When I get caffeinated, I get mad. It's part of the reason I prefer dark roasts, they have less caffeine and more robust flavours- the jolt I need without taking me too far over the edge. I remember drinking a medium roast one day (having ordered it by accident) and then spending a full fifteen minutes arguing with a professor about how I shouldn't have to resubmit a paper I'd sent in, even though he had offered to let me fix all the problems and hand it in the next day without penalty. So, yeah, I'm a little scared. I'm not scared of what's going to happen when I open that jar- I'm scared of what's going to happen to me.



2:10. Big darkness, come soon.



It's now 3:17. We cracked the lid on the jar of 72 hour stuff. Smelled a treat. Had the look of brackish swamp water but we'd basically anticipated that. I'd boiled some water beforehand (because sometimes you can cut it with water to give yourself more volume with the same caffeine content). We poured ourselves fairly conservative amounts (there was plenty left to put back in the fridge for Monday- though, now grindless. We just want to see if it'll keep). It tasted pretty good! The fruity notes from before were gone, and it had a general roastiness to it that was pleasant. When heated, it was very smooth and pleasant to drink. Jack tried mixing in some boiling water, and remarked that the result tasted like diner coffee.

We retired to Jack's office to reflect on the experience. Jack began to complain of mild tunnel vision- I got none of that, but when I closed my eyes I could see my pulse on the inside of my eyelids. The Hounds of Tindalos were mentioned, briefly. We were both surprised by how calm we both were. I said I felt remarkably zen for the amount of caffeine I'd just quaffed, Jack mused that perhaps we'd ingested enough caffeine to jolt us with adrenalin and put us in "the zone". I then put forth that perhaps we'd ingested so much caffeine that our bodies were now thinking that we were dying, and had accepted that there was no saving us. We'd forced our bodies to accept death. Eventually, we decided it was a good idea to get donuts.

We were both feeling good, riding the crest of a peaceful and easy wave. There was none of the manic energy or rage that I'd experienced yesterday, and my honey cruller tasted better than any honey cruller I'd yet eaten. I was sure I would sleep very little tonight, but at the moment that concern was far from my mind. On the way back, I remarked to Jack that I could feel the left hemisphere of my frontal lobe contracting, he merely laughed.

3:26, now. My eyes are sore and I can feel the barest twinge of a headache coming on. I think I'm going to go and get some water.

All in all, I don't feel as bad as I was worried I would. I'm sure the crash is inevitable, but I'm not thinking too hard about that. By the time it rolls around, I'll have pizza and soft drinks to soothe myself, and I can spend the evening playing video games and whatnot.

I actually feel really good. Both physically (apart from the eyes) and just in general mental well-being. I kinda feel like I can take on the world. A little invincible. It's just the adrenalin talking, but I won't lie, I like to listen to that song. Makes me feel right. Proper. Like I can do some good, get some work done. Like I can finally tackle one of those big project I keep saying I'll work on.

I feel pretty righteous right now.

Shit- I feel a headache coming on.

Update
A day later and I'm honestly not sure if the come-down was better or worse than I expected. I stayed reasonably alert until about 12:30 when I started to wear down, and was awake until around 2:00. I never experienced any actual headaches, and my eyes stopped hurting pretty soon after I got home.

Then I went to bed, slept very poorly, and spent the rest of the next day exhausted and cranky. I don't know if it was the coffee, or that I went to bed at 2:30 in the morning and woke up at 9:00.