Coffee, coffee, coffee. The lifeblood that runs through the veins of the city. And most of mine. The always accessible IV-drip of flat whites and cappuccinos in Sydney has gripped hold of us with a vengeance, and will not be letting go.
But like all good material pleasures, it doesn’t miraculously appear and then vanish without a trace. We all know that coffee beans come from somewhere, and they go somewhere. I’m not talking about the sweet caffeine molecules binding to your adenosine receptors – I mean the used-up grounds. As the byproducts of things we love continue to clutter our bins (and sabotage any ill-fated attempts at minimalism), it’s important to know where we’re getting them from and what to do with the remains.