Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Nectar of the Gods

So the other day I posted a coffee recipe on my blog and, much to my surprise, several people commented to say they don't like coffee.

I know, I know, it's hard to believe, but there it is.

I don't even know what to say to these people (some of whom are my good friends) other than..."that's okay then, more for me."

My own husband doesn't drink coffee and I actually do say that to him on a regular basis. But I can't really find fault with him because he will often disappear while we're in the grocery store and show up a few minutes later with a cup from Starbucks for me.

Anyway, I have a long, rich history with coffee. We go way back. It reminds me of home and family. I remember waking up to the smell of it every day of my childhood. I still have the manual grinder that once hung in my grandparents' kitchen. It looks a lot like this one here:

I bonded with my mother over coffee. She drinks hers black, no sugar. So do I. Coffee was involved in my earliest attempts to cultivate an adult palate. The first yogurt I ever ate was coffee-flavored Dannon yogurt that I ate while reading Yoga, Youth and Reincarnation. I felt ever so sophisticated and health conscious.

I even have a spiritual connection with it. How many people can claim that?

The very first cup of actual coffee I ever drank was when I joined a theological Discussion Group. I remember the coffee distinctly, the conversation not so much. I also remember feeling very grown-up because I was wearing my very first lipstick. Pale pink. Love's Cosmetics. With the cool, futuristic, clear-plastic bubble top. Yeah, I'm dating myself. Who cares?

I have literary connections with it as well. The first publisher I aspired to sign with was Coffee House Press. Yes, I was a small press, literary fiction girl. My first experience with French Poetry was Jacques Prevert's poem Breakfast.

It starts out like this:

He poured the coffee
Into the cup
He poured the milk
Into the cup of coffee
He put the sugar
Into the coffee with milk
With a small spoon
He stirred it
He drank the coffee
And he put down the cup
Without speaking to me.

There are a lot of reasons to indulge in coffee--besides its sheer awesomeness. It's a health food.  It protects your brain, your teeth, your skin. It can be used to detoxify your system... Yeah, okay that might be a bit extreme. You can garden with it. My grandmother used to spoon her coffee grounds into the pots that held her houseplants.  Or you can use it to create works of art. Like these. Or like these. Or wearable art like this.

But, now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to pour myself a cup and listen to some tunes...

Or find more here.


A. Catherine Noon said...

Hmm. How shall I put this?


'Nuff sed. :)

PG Forte said...

lol! Indeed. ;)

Kim B said...

Yeah, I don't like coffee. My memories are a little different. My mom would drink more than a pot a day, black. Her teeth always seemed stained to me and she had horrible coffee breathe. So I grew up saying I will never drink that stuff, and pretty much kept that vow. I have had people tell me I just have to "try this coffee, you'll love it". Nope. Then there is the hubby. He used to make coffee every morning before work. It had to be done in a percolator. Two TABLE spoons of sugar, and a ton of sweetened condensed milk. I am not sure that qualifies as coffee anymore. It was more like coffee flavored sugar. But...I love going to the grocery store and walking down the coffee aisle. I grab a couple of hazelnut coffee beans just to smell. Mmmm...

Milinda said...

As you say, more coffee for us coffee lovers.

I remember that poem. I remember the French teacher at the JC presenting it to us early one Friday morning. Thank you for that memory.

Meg Benjamin said...

Sadly, my mom, the world's worst cook, also made horrible coffee. It wasn't until I tried some in a restaurant that I realized it wasn't supposed to taste burnt. Thus began a quest to find the most awesome cup ever. I'm still on it.

Kim Dalferes said...

Frank Sinatra has a coffee song?!
I could not survive without coffee - be a contestant on "Survivor" - no way, no coffee, just no way...

PG Forte said...

Kim, apparently everyone worth listening to has a coffee song. I had no idea until i started looking. :)

Meg, that story reminds me of my Italian grandfather attempting to make his morning espresso while we were on vacation in rural Vermont. There was a problem--don't remember what now, exactly--that resulted in a good deal of burnt rubber. For a long time, I thought that was how espresso was supposed to smell. :)

Milinda--it's a great poem, isn't it? It's stayed with me for years and years. :) And, yes. More for us. ;)

Erin Nicholas said...

Growing up my parents drank straight black coffee and while I love the smell, I didn't get into the taste. Until college-- and this small town girl found a real coffee house. There I learned something that changed my life: coffee + cream + caramel syrup + whipped cream = bliss.

I rarely go for black now either, but I drink all other brews, mixtures and types of coffee now. And I drink enough to keep the coffee growers in business even if there are still some (*cough* strange *cough*) people who don't appreciate it! *g*

Kelly Jamieson said...

Black coffee. I'm a grown up. AND CHECK THIS OUT PG:

Kinsey Holley said...

It's weird but I don't drink coffee at home - don't even have a coffee maker. I'll do Starbucks a couple times a month, and I have the odd cup at work. I do love good coffee after dinner when I eat out.

My mom and my sister are both utterly useless and, in the case of my sister, downright scary before they've had their coffee in the morning. Last road trip we took together, sister didn't get her coffee until she'd been up for almost two hours. I came thisclose to putting the bitch down, and her husband would've understood.