Cup of Joe

An Ode to the Bean

This article is dedicated to and sings the praises of Juan Valdez’s favorite beverage. You know Juan. He’s the Colombian coffee farmer who always walked with his donkey Conchita, carrying sacks of harvested coffee beans; at least for those of us who watched a lot of TV back in the last century.

Starting Young

I have been drinking coffee since I was five years old. Every morning, along with my Lucky Charms cereal, I was given a mug of café con leche: one part brewed Colombian coffee, one part milk, one part sugar. Way to jazz me up for the half-mile walk to school, Ma.

It’s a tradition in many Latino families. Café con leche, the training wheels for a lifelong obsession with a steaming, ever-ready pot of coffee; it brings little ones into the family circle early, and makes them feel so grown up and loved. I can’t explain it, really. You have to have lived it to fully understand.

I remember when I was a bilingual teacher in first grade, one of the Latino kids in my colleague’s class walked in with a cup of Dunkin’ Donuts brew and she lost her mind, screaming about how irresponsible and unhealthy it was to give a small child coffee. My older brother’s first-grade teacher went off on him for the same thing and he hasn’t had a taste of coffee since. This actually may well explain a lot of his poor life choices; I’m not a psychologist, but it makes sense to me. I intervened in my colleague’s rant to save this little boy from a similar fate.

Since I was small, the smell and taste of coffee and even the sound of a percolator brewing made me feel warm inside. The first sip feels like coming home. The last sip, the draining of the mug, is a bit sad. Unfortunately for me, I am very sensitive to caffeine and cannot drink coffee all day and all night the way some lucky people can. I have to savor each sip before noon because I know I will have to wait until morning for more or pay the price in the middle of the night, lying awake with my heart pounding. There are worse things, I’m aware; I just wish I could enjoy this pleasure 24/7. I’m greedy that way.

My mother can have an espresso at midnight and pop right off to sleep. I’m deeply jealous of her for this.

I’ll Have it My Way

I am also admittedly anal about how I take my coffee. I really prefer to make it myself at home; that way it is perfect. A lifelong friend recently admitted that she visits me partly so she can have a cup of coffee from my percolator, so I know it’s not just me.

I cannot tell you how many times I have had to ask the Dunkin’ Donuts people to remake a cup of coffee. I’m not sure why “dark and with a tiny bit of sugar” is so hard to do. I learned from a friend to ask them to put a half teaspoon of sugar in the cup first (to help it mix as they pour) and make it the color of a paper bag. That only works half the time, but it’s better than nothing.

I know a lot of people are picky about how they take their coffee and have trouble at DD or Starbucks. Some of us get so frustrated, that we even throw the mistakes in disgust at the plate glass window as we drive away (ahem, you know who you are).

I think most of us coffee drinkers just want to enjoy our java juice when we want it, the way we want it. Is that asking too much?

Nothing But the Best

Coffee is enjoyed in many parts of the world, but some places just do it better. In Colombia, and in any self-respecting Latino kitchen, the percolator brews a full-bodied, eminently satisfying liquid warmth. In my experience, there’s just nothing like it.

In New York, you can walk into any deli and order a cuppa regular, New York-ese for light and sweet, or just a cuppa, which is black unless you specify otherwise. And it’s always good.

I love Jamaica’s Blue Mountain brand too. It’s tasty and it’s a low-caffeine coffee I can drink all day with no problems. If you’re lucky enough to visit Jamaica, make sure to go to the Blue Mountains and see for yourself.

Recently I took a trip to Indonesia and visited a farm called Balipoochino. They grow herbs, coffee and tea but are known mostly for their Kopi Lewak. Kopi means coffee and lewak is the native weasel who helps them process the beans before roasting. Look it up. I loved all the coffees and teas in the sampler they give you but drew the line at experimenting with Kopi Lewak. I bought some for my kids as a souvenir and they enjoyed it, so there you go.

Greek coffee is a tiny nip of hi-test heaven, followed by the reading of the grinds by the Yaya who cooked your lunch. That one is worth literally losing sleep over.

And there is little as fabulous as a café au lait in the late morning in Paris to go with your steaming croissant. Even the ubiquitous surly waiter can’t take that heaven away from me.

When we stay in hotels, I get up early and head down to the coffee station, not expecting much. Usually, it’s barely hot, barely brown water that may or may not tide me over until I can get a cup of the real thing. But every once in a while, I find a full-bodied surprise in my hotel paper cup, and it improves my whole assessment of the hotel.

I Know There are Other Hot Drinks, But…

Don’t get me wrong, I do really love tea too. I could, and maybe will, write a blog post about herbal pleasures. Hot lemon ginger tea for cold afternoons, chamomile tea for hurting tummies and dream-filled sleep, an iced Matcha latté in the summer…the choices for tea are endless and growing by the year with new options from around the world. It’s wonderful.

A colleague even turned me on to the pleasures of a cup of hot water. Just plain hot water. Sounds weird, but give it a try when no one is looking so you don’t feel judged. It’s really pretty awesome, especially when you want something hot but don’t want calories or caffeine. You’ll thank me.

But right now, I’m savoring the last drop of today’s caffeine fix and feeling the love kick in, literally. Mmmmmm.

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