So I’m in step class (getting my ass whipped by the way) and all I can think about is coffee. How a lovely cup of coffee would be just what I need to keep my motivation up, and energy high.
Now, I’m a naturally energetic person anyway, I don’t need a ton of caffeine, however it doesn’t hurt one bit to try to keep up with the busy life style. Plus I LOVE coffee. What is it about the sweet smell of it permeating the house, or if you’re at a coffee shop, the constant sound of the espresso machine cooking up the magic elixir that will help perk me up and force me to slow down at the same time.
I am convinced my adoration for this amazing bean comes from my parents. They taught me at a very early age how to make coffee. Now as a parent, I realize this was a very smart move. It gave me something to do right when I got up, and it gave them 10 extra minutes in bed, and when they got up, fresh hot coffee was ready. Smart Mom and Papa…very smart. But the thing was, they didn’t just have regular coffee. Their coffee was mud like…I’m not kidding. I still remember…I was taught to use 10 scoops (which I found out later were tablespoons) of coffee. 1/2 of the coffee was darker than tar, and ground to a fine dust, and then 1/2 was more regular looking grounds and very dark brown. I had an art to it…i would pour 1 scoop of the dust, 1 scoop of the regular and keep going until I got to 10. Then I would mix it all together in the filter so it would get a perfect mix of flavors and then pour exactly 10 cups of water into the water basin and I would sit and watch it cook. Typically, the 10 cups of water resulted in about 8 cups of midnight black coffee that smelled heavenly.
It was an amazing piece of machinery to me, watching water and this dirt turn into something so enticing and delicious. For a long time I was not allowed to have any, but FINALLY my mom gave me a big mug with a tiny bit of their coffee and then warm milk to fill it up. I will never forget the taste, it was creamy and lovely as if it had been sitting in the pot calling out for me to drink it. From that point forward I would have my “coffee” and slowly I was allowed to have a little more coffee and a little less milk.
I believe that coffee I used to make for my parents was about the thickest we could possibly make without jamming up the coffee maker completely. I love this coffee, and to this day, I still don’t go for the sweet, drinks, instead opting for the espresso drinks where you can really taste the espresso. My favorite cup of coffee however was the smallest one I have ever had or seen. My husband and I were in Italy on an island called Ponza…which is an incredible piece of the world by the way. Anyhow we ordered “coffee” which came in a little bigger than a thimble sized cup, and I thought I was going to die. I was sure I needed about 400 of these to feed my craving. And yet, 1 drink and POW that was all we needed! That was some amazing stuff, and the memory of that with my adoring husband is one I will never forget.
My love for coffee had continued throughout my life, and while the coffee I make for my husband and I is much less time intensive, and much less Mud-Esque, it’s still so lovely to know that when he wakes up he has a nice hot pot of coffee just waiting to greet him. Like it’s saying…”Hello handsome husband, your wife made me just for you…enjoy and have a good day!”
So as I step away and bust my hump spinning and twirling, I can’t wait until my reward of sitting down in a big chair, slowly sipping a latte with just the tiniest bit of sugar so I can have a mix of sweet and and still taste the grinding yummyness of the espresso who is so happy to provide me with my kick for the day.
Happy Friday everyone, and I hope you all have a lovely caffeinated morning.