Coffee break

Fellow blogger Garbo posted recently about the various implements she's used to stir her coffee. It set off a little blush of remembrance for me. Coffee, so delicious and helpful, has become problematic for me. In trying to find an alternative to cream, I've found a good coconut oatmilk combo, but I wasn't completely sold on it, and I did not want to have any sweetener in my brew. This led to experimenting with spices. I already liked to occasionally add cinnamon or cardamom to my coffee, and started combining the two. That was good, but a little sharp for my early morning entry into wakefulness. Once I added honey, though, it was perfect. I've finally found a dairy free brew that I love. That little bit of honey works for me.

Garbo's post also made me remember my first taste of coffee: sitting around my grandma's kitchen table in the mornings, my sister, cousins and me, each with a bowl of oatmeal with butter and sugar, staring at a big plate of fried fatback, each holding a mug of chicory coffee filled with a splash of sweetened condensed milk. I can still smell my grandparents' house on those early mornings, before we ran out the door to play in the creek and pester the chickens. Coffee, fatback, dishsoap.

When we moved to my other grandmother's house, coffee became the comforting sound of her percolator each morning, and the knowledge that in the kitchen, toast was toasting in the oven and the paper was being read. We weren't given coffee, there. Kids weren't served that beverage, according to this grandma, and it was enough for me to hear and smell coffee's wonderfulness being prepared each morning.

Years later, I remember, we had a neighbor that my mom didn't particularly like, who drank iced coffee. She was a pretty woman, and I liked her even though mom didn't. For some reason I filed that away as something glamorous that I would love to try someday. I did and I do. For years I'd order coffee at Mc Donald's and a large cup of ice. Not ideal as you can imagine. Half the time they didn't add enough ice to the cup which made a tepid brew. The Sunshine Inn in St. Louis made an excellent iced Viennese coffee which I loved. 

My favorite brewing method is pour over, and I've had the same brown plastic Melitta mug-top cone for 40 years. Recently I bought a glass one so I could take the plastic one to work. Funny thing though, my mom and Chuck's old Mr. Coffee makes an incredibly good cup. It's ancient too, which makes this fact even more astounding. Traveling in Mexico in the early 80's I raved about the coffee, and every time I asked about it, they told me they served Nescafe. You just never know how and where good coffee might turn up. For the longest time I drank it black, but I need a bit of that acidity cut, and adding something creamy helps.

Closing with a few good coffee songs. There are many more, I know, but I do like these. Hope you do, too.

~Dorothy Dolores 

Bob's Cup

Peggy's Cup

Crash Test Dummie's Cup