Coffee

I remember having my first cuppa coffee with my godfather, Uncle Ed, at a Wendy's when we were on a break. It was my first "official job," and he was a contract office cleaner guy. He'd drive me around in his pickup and we'd vacuum and wipe-down and take the trash out of offices and stuff like that. He coached me through my first cup. Although he took his black, he suggested I put in a lot of sugar so I could "handle it." I still remember reading all those old-timey advertisements on the table at Wendy's while we finished our cups.

I do have to mention that corporate-owned coffee chain, if for just a moment. I worked my way through college at one of those places, and became the go-to barista for the morning rush. My personal favourite was the Americano: hot or iced water and espresso. After finding that love, there was no need for creamer, sweetener, or additives of any kind. I would joke (well, I still do) about how that drink described my ideal lover, in lots of colourful simile I'll omit here. I opened the store most weekdays, and went in early, like 4am, "to make sure the espresso machine was working." I'd make an Americano, then have a half-hour to myself before any other staff showed up to open the store. Quietest time in that city.

After I stopped working there (it was a good 4+ years), I stopped supporting that company in particular altogether. I'll just keep it at that.

Nowadays I have a handful of friends in different parts of the country who roast their own beans, and I go out of my way to either pick up a few pounds or regularly order from them and have their beans shipped to where I live. Although nowadays I brew my coffee then store it in an insulated thermos, I reckon I'll steal some of these cold-brew recipes you all have posted here and try them out.

I saw this thread after my BEL fro this morning and I thought I might revitalize it just for fun. I love hearing these stories.

Growing up I remember coffee being considered an adult beverage. My dad always drank it in the mornings with cream and sugar. And my granny on my mom's side always had here trademarked stainless steel and black plastic travel mug, she never washed the thing, and every Shipley's Doughnuts in the greater Houston area could expect her to come in for a refill and a half dozen doughnut holes- a quantity they would sell to no one else. She gave me my first cup when babysitting at some point, the cream and sugar was great, I didn't much care for the coffee though. My grandmother on my dad's side grew up in Colombia, she always made a big deal about bringing back some good coffee, I stuck with the coffee candies, but again I was in for the sugar. I went on without coffee, my favorite reply to another's need for coffee was, "Life is my coffee", and of course people loved that.

Flash forward some years and I got the opportunity to accompany my grandmother, and visit some relatives in Colombia. It was amazing, I loved it, and being on a more restrictive diet, coffee was the best bet for receiving hospitality from my hosts. But muscling down some primo coffee as close to the source as i'd ever be to it was a cross I could bear. They did coffee different than I had ever seen the "Cafecito" is what was offered mostly. It's essentially, a shot of espresso that's made in a "cafetera" (mocha pot) on the stove rather that in an espresso machine. Everyone drank it with sugar, and going anywhere, one had to specify, "Cafecito sin dulce, por favor" (Unsweet coffee please.). Needless to say going from no coffee to straight black espresso was a rough transition for the sake of charity. But somewhere in the entire month spent, I acquired  the taste and a new enjoyment of coffee.

My tastes have varied slightly, but the coffee has found it's nook in the house my mind. Just like anything I eat/ enjoy, I quickly started progressing down the DIY path. Today I own my own secondhand Mr. Coffee espresso machine, where I steam my own milk, grind my own beans, and pull my own shots for a perfect plain latte, with an attempted latte tulip. My sweeping pronouncement is that properly steamed milk is the only acceptable coffee additive apart from the very occasional affogato (espresso with ice cream).

I can imagine a future where I brainstorm for permacultural solutions, but it's not at the top of my list.

Loose neurons: Yerba Mate ( and its cousin, yaupon holly, that's all over Texas; chicory; dandelion root; caffeine vs flavor prioritization; rocket espresso machine; rocket coffee roaster; coffee trees in Montana?!? (See how lemon works first)