Lately, I've been obsessed with iced coffee.
It happens every summer, but this time it's different. This time I froth my cold milk with a french press, I add vanilla, I add ice and I pour everything into a big cup with a cap and a straw. It's my favorite thing. I like it better than Starbucks or any other cappuccinos or espressos. It's funny because my dad gets dressed every morning, even on Sundays, to get his coffee from the bar downstairs, and here I am liking the way I make my coffee better than any other one I've ever had.

But here is a thing: I don't think my coffee is better. I don't think I make the best coffee or that anyone would taste it and find a new obsession. I'm not ready to leave everything and invest all of my money into a hipster coffee shop with fairy lights and mason jars. I just like the way I make it. And it doesn't matter if it's too sweet, or too cold or if the brew is not honey and goji flavored or the beans weren't toasted right before a new moon. It's simple, I like it. That's it. 

And this is the part in which I transform a chat about iced coffee into a life lesson. Uhm, a blog lesson. I want this space to be simple and how I like it. I don't want to care about perfect pictures or clickbait or a schedule. Because although it takes time and money to make a perfect Starbucks copycat, we all know the original thing always tastes better, so why even bother. Let's put a bit too much sugar in it and welcome back.

My famous* iced coffee recipe

*never been famous and never will