Born of two avid coffee drinkers, and raised during the height of the coffee culture craze, I was predisposed to love coffee. My enthusiasm was sparked at a very early age. Every morning while my mom enjoyed her daily brew, I would snuggle close and beg for a coffee kiss. Soon the innocent lip to lip coffee tastings were not sufficient. Sips turned into gulps, and before long she was fixing me my very own cup of the sweet creamy concoction.
Ever since my dad discovered our shared love of coffee, he has taken it upon himself to foster and fuel my enthusiasm with countless coffee-shop outings. He made sure, early on, that I knew the difference between a latte, a cappuccino, and an americano. Like most coffee-shop goers, we sip our lattes and discuss current issues and such, but likely at some point our conversation will shift to the topic of coffee. My father and I discuss coffee as many discuss philosophy or religion. To us, it is not just a drink, but an artful delicacy to be carefully contemplated and savored.
I am willing to admit it... This attitude towards coffee has somewhere along the way turned me into a slight coffee snob. Whether it was boycotting a coffee-shop for not having whole milk (the only TRUE way to make a latte), or shelling out a lofty chunk of my savings in order to purchase THE ultimate espresso machine (pictured above), at some point during the past year I have been affirmed that my particularity about coffee is not the norm.
Not only am I a coffee snob, but I am also a coffee addict. If I do not have my 2-3 cups of coffee in the morning, at about 3 PM I get the most insane headache. Actually,these afternoon headaches are pretty typical. I usually take them to mean it is time for my afternoon latte, but on the days I have missed my morning cup(s), they are particularly insane. Yes, I am fully aware that coffee is a drug. I am certainly not one to condone drug abuse, which is why I prefer to attribute my frequent coffee consumption to my intense enthusiasm for the beverage.
Apparently, this love for coffee is nothing new. In the 1730s, Johann Sebastian Bach composed what is known today as the Coffee Cantata. It tells a story of a girl who refuses to marry unless she can find a man who will tolerate her coffee enthusiasm. I feel that I can truly identify with this young woman and what she has to say. She pretty much says it all...
"If I can't drink my bowl of coffee three times daily, then in my torment, I will shrivel up like a piece of roast goat."
3 comments:
Je suis d'accord avec Michelle. This is one of your best. You acknowledge your coffee obsession without resorting to cliche.
I especially like the bit about Bach. NPR n'est-ce pas?
(everyone secretly wants to be you, Lauren)
Unlike you, my love of coffee didn't rear its head until college. And even then, it was more a product of atmosphere - talking until the wee hours of the morning with friends about the world's problems and how we would solve them. After college was when I started getting more interested in coffee for coffee's sake: where did it come from? how was it grown? In graduate school, I used this article (http://money.cnn.com/magazines/fortune/fortune_archive/2002/12/09/333463/index.htm) as an excuse to write a paper on the economics of poverty and trade focused solely on coffee! It may have been one of the only papers I truly loved writing, and kept on file (yes, I am a huge geek).
I loved this post, the descriptions, and the way it left me rushing out to buy a cup for myself. Hope to see you soon.
If you only knew how much I wished we were friends after reading this post.
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