Ever since I was a kid, I hated everything about coffee. The way it smelled, the stains it left on the sides of the mugs and I would never in a million years take a taste of it.
My friends are coffee FREAKS and could never understand why I couldn’t drink it. I realized the other day why I hated it so much my whole life: church. My parents used to drag us downstairs after church to hang with the rest of the “Christian cranks” and we’d have to stay until they were done gabbing. I saw someone pour clotted, rancid creamer into their coffee once and I think that’s what the final straw was. I saw the white lumps and almost puked right then and there. Never mind the fact that I hated church to begin with, now I got to see people downing coffee, breathing their coffee breath all over the place, and talking about the lord. Blah. Blah. Blah.
When I did my study abroad in Costa Rica, people went apeshit over the coffee there. I sooooooooo wanted to be part of the cool, coffee-drinkers club. Blech. It made me gag to think about it.
I’d always been able to drink what I call “bitch drinks,” meaning the fluffy-fru-fru coffee drinks at Starbucks. I was starting to be able to tolerate a light flavoring of coffee, as long as it was muted with sugar and whipped cream.
I started going to the cafe at my new job a couple months ago, just to get the jolt of caffeine to get me through our intense training. I started getting hooked…
Well, a few weeks ago, some friends gave me an aero-press. I was going to give it a shot and be a coffee drinker. Damn it, I was going to grow up.
So, I started with some ground Seattle’s Best (I really wanted to get to Copper Star and buy theirs, but I never got there. Next time!) and went to town. I. Am. In. Love.
I call it “caffeine clarity” as I down two cups before work. I like that I can make 1 – 4 cups at a time. I love the sound of the steam as I press it through. It tastes WAY better than any coffee make could do. I wash my mug right away so it doesn’t get stained. No drip marks on the outside. Oh, and I refuse to use any creamer. I add a dash of sugar, just a little bit, to cut the bitter edge.
I’m hooked. I drank 4 cups Saturday and that didn’t go over well, as I became a bit stabby and wanted to murder my neighbor, but at least I was finally drinking it.
I feel like I am becoming one of the cool kids. Now, if I could just tell the difference between the good stuff and the ghetto stuff.