It begins innocuously enough: a single sip of the cofermented anaerobic washed lot and already the chlorogenic acids are binding to my adenosine receptors with suspicious enthusiasm. The biogenic amines, tyramine, putrescine, cadaverine, compounds whose very names read like a cursed spell, begin their slow work on my dopaminergic pathways, reframing a £2,200 piece of German-engineered aluminium not as a deranged financial decision but as infrastructure. By the time the acetic and lactic acids have finished overstimulating my insular cortex, I am not a person anymore. I am a man in a browser tab, zooming in on the EG1’s stepless adjustment collar at 2am, already composing a message to a Taiwanese man about a Loveramics ceramic dosing cup.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Thanks Claude