BECK ON BEANS: Folgers Classic Roast. Classic like red lipstick or classic like wood paneling?

 

Here’s a honest-to-goodness actual review of Folgers Classic Roast. 

    Okay, so it’s the coffee that reminds me of visiting someone’s grandma. And the weird-ass Folgers Crystals thing. WTH, y’all. It’s motel room coffee machine coffee, right? The swill languishing in the bottom of a glass carafe brewer that sits buzzing and lurching in the nameless highway exit gas station. 

   No? Just me? 

    So, I admit that I have bias. Folgers and Maxwell House do not bring forth pleasant imagery of work worn hands plucking tropical beans for pre-roast inspection. They remind me of waiting rooms, service stations with dirty bathrooms, and uncomfortable conversations. 

    When I saw this pod in my newest variety pack, I rolled my eyes. Great. They sent me the worst part of waking up. Peter must have come home for Christmas. Get my pink bath robe and some hot rollers. 

    Then, my lawyer brain took over. Convicting a coffee without due process? Not this SJW. I am determined to give this KCup a fair shake. 

    Despite the fact that I know it’s going to tear up my stomach for the next hour, I took the picture and popped the pod. 

Fragrance: It smells like my late Grandmother’s house. Heavy carbon... something smoked meaty about it... 

Flavor: I was genuinely surprised by my first sip. I laughed. My six-year-old son asked what was so funny and I replied, “I really thought this coffee was gonna be gross. I kinda like it, actually. Well, maybe.”  

    This coffee isn’t pulling any punches, just like your chain smoking, hard-line conservative aunt who serves it to you at her table while she makes the pasta and gravy. This is the blessed brew keeping soldiers awake on night watch. This is the stuff that gets you to your first day at a new job at 5AM. This is the brew you try not to spill on your ridiculously uncomfortable Easter dress before your parents drag you to sunrise mass so you miss the crowds of twice-a-year Catholics. When you think of American industrial coffee, you’re thinking of this. No subtlety. Just straight up beans that have had the will to live roasted out of them for hours. 

    Just like your raspy aunt’s favorite politicians, this cup is oily and salty on the palate. Add some skim milk to this, if necessary, but stay away from sugar or higher-fat content creamers.  Adding these would lead to a cup as cloying as The Huggabunch. 

    To be fair,  for all the eye-roll inducing imagery associated with Folgers, it also brings a little bittersweet nostalgia. Beautiful fall mornings at the kitchen table in my parents’ house in Georgia. Grabbing a pick-me-up on a road trip to a remote island then pooping your brains out once you arrive... Okay... I’m out of good ones. 

Recommended for: 

1. Waiting up until that ungrateful child deliberately gets home WELL after curfew. 
2. Jacking up for pulling AWOLs out of Amsterdam. 
3. Making coffee ice cubes. 

Not recommended for: 

1. Additives. In this case, it’s can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em. Skim milk. That’s it. 
2. Dessert. 
3. Afternoon cups. This is not a cup to relax with. This is fuel for the War Room. This is what you drink when telling Mr. Gorbachev to take down that wall. 

Would I buy again? 

No. Absolutely not. However, it was not nearly as bad as I expected it to be. Granted, I haven’t finished the cup yet and my opinion may change once I’m stuck in the bathroom until my Head brand vinyl track suit goes out of style. Again.

Cheers, Folgers! I’ve got a new slogan for you: 

“Folgers Coffee; Better than you expect.” 

That’s the more positive spin of, “Folgers Coffee; Not as bad as you remember.” 🤣

I will now accept my marketing commission and watch The Breakfast Club while eating Fruity Pebbles. 

Happy sipping!