French Press Espresso #06 — Field Note

Vanilla, and the Edge of Spring

Some days feel like an experiment.

Others feel like a checkpoint.

Today’s cup was both.

I ran a second test on the molasses idea, this time with a small drop of vanilla mixed into the fresh grounds. The grounds bloomed immediately, releasing that thick dark sweetness molasses carries. The vanilla softened the edges. The whole thing smelled like a bakery that decided to start roasting coffee instead of bread. The result was… unexpectedly balanced.

Not syrupy. Just rounded sweetness.

The molasses pulled the coffee deeper into itself — darker, almost smoky — while the vanilla lifted the aroma enough to keep the brew from feeling heavy. It tasted like late winter, trying to remember what spring smells like.

And that feels about right for where things are.

Spring is approaching, whether the calendar says so yet or not. New work is starting to move again. Fresh gigs are opening up. Planning is restarting for the launch of two new brands this year. And later this month, I’ll head out to NSWC Crane to visit colleagues and see where those improbable government threads might lead next.

At the same time, real life is doing what real life does. Taxes need to be filed, and funding is tight in that quiet, background-hum way that makes every purchase feel like a small, yet calculated battle.

But something about 2026 feels different. Not easy. Not predictable.

Just… open.

Like the early part of the year, when the ground is still cold, but you can tell the soil underneath is starting to loosen. This cup felt like that moment. Dark sweetness. A little uncertainty. A hint of something warm on the way. If the molasses experiment taught me anything this week, it’s that small, thoughtful additions change the whole brew. And maybe the same is true for the year ahead.

Not certainty. Just a few ingredients that weren’t there before.

And an intuitive sense that fantastical expectations might actually have somewhere to land.

— Kel