Welcome back, Java!

Boy, I miss food.

You see, my doctor took it all away when I came down with bad stomach problems last year. Seems my penchant for ridiculously hot Buffalo wings with a French fried chaser has left some holes in my digestive tract. Sigh.

I’m on the world’s worst bland diet, like plain rice, saltines and apple juice. And while he has slowly allowed me to let some things back into my culinary repertoire, all the good stuff is still a no-no. Like anything spicy, fried, fatty, breaded, rich, covered in cream sauce, doused in chocolate, caffeine-laden, or, God forbid, having any alcohol content.

You know, all the things that make life worth living.

The worst thing was no more coffee. I sat bolt upright up on the table for that little announcement. Are you kidding me? No coffee?! I’m a writer, for Pete’s sake, and a third shift paramedic. A nightcrawler by all description. He could have just taken away, oh, I don’t know … oxygen maybe.

I tried to be good. But it’s so very hard.

So I actually got up and danced a jig this week when I got reluctant permission from the doc to enjoy one 8 oz cup of java per day. Look out world. The problem is, I have been deprived from that smooth, silky, wonderful goodness for so long that now all coffee tastes just plain ordinary to me.

The mission begins. I’m on the hunt for Tampa Bay’s best local cup of coffee (NOT Starbucks or D&Ds). I’m talking all the little book nooks, cafes, diners and roach coaches. Even your Aunt Edna’s living room. Bring it on!

So, fellow local shop-a-holics, pepper me with your suggestions! I’m taking a coffee tour of this great area no holds barred and taking no prisoners.

Whether the doc likes it or not.