What does a cryptozoological* creature have to do with a delicious cup of coffee? At first we tried to explain the mystery away: clearly, Yvonne the yeti and her friends had arrived in our muggy Minnesota summer to rescue us with their cooling super powers. Yet several years and umpteen delicious drinks later, the mystery remains.
I was up too late the other night. Perhaps it was the heat, perhaps it was our late midsummer sunsets, maybe, just maybe, it was all the cold press I’d been drinking all day. Some cups were black with ice and a little water for something carmelly and intense, some matched the ice with a little creamy whole milk, one might have even had half-and-half for something that resembled slurping melted ice cream… After dinner, I just couldn’t resist a little more cold press — rumor has it that some vodka made its way into this one for something like a White Russian.
All that coffee isn’t a recipe for a sleepy night and my legs were too twitchy for a small apartment so I stepped out into the park for a stroll. Daytime, the park’s a peaceful place: there are a few soccer games a day throughout the summer, and the thwap of a bat on ball punctuates the evenings. Late nights the park’s quieter—the last of the joggers trot through, someone’s dog gets its last walk of the night, and up on the hill overlooking the park, the last few house lights blink out sleepily. There’s a little garden planted up on the hill near the edge of park land; a crew of youth tend vegetables, a few herbs, and, my favorite, those orange Oriental Poppies. I went up to see how they were looking in the moonlight. There ’round the corner of the raspberry bushes, I thought I saw something move, just a little. It’s easy to get creeped out in the moonlight alone in a dark park, but I stepped in just a little closer. And there, around the edge of the raspberries, was a cluster of little creatures, looking a little like fat wooly sheep. With mustaches. Tiny pint glasses in hand, they were clinking glasses of a dark liquid and twitching their big hairy feet…almost as if they’d had too much cold press.
And so, if someone asks, that’s the story you can tell about the connection between cryptozoology and cold press, or you could just drink a stack of pint glasses of cold press and go out for a walk and see what happens. We make no guarantees that you’ll meet hidden creatures, but if you do, let us know!
*Cryptozoology is the study of animals that are legendary and not seen in your ordinary zoo; examples include the Yeti or Abominable Snow Man, the Loch Ness Monster, and the Chupacabra. The word comes from the Greek word kryptos, which means “hidden” and zoology; which literally translates as, “study of hidden animals.”