Ok, I had my coffee routine. Every morning, I’d stop for coffee on my way to school. Regular, brown coffee with a bit of cream. Don’t get me started on milk. Real cream. OK, real fat-free half and half. Must come from a Holstein / Guernsey mix, right? But milk? That doesn’t even count as a “healthy alternative”. Some people like it sweet – add a little sugar and off you go, a morning drink to start the day. We couldn’t just leave it at that.
First the sugar people got involved. A whole bunch of “non-sugar” sweeteners appeared on the counter with stirring sticks, tops and napkins. They’re all color-coded in blue, pink, and yellow so we’d get just the right one. Sugar was still white, but that little envelope of white magic could kill you – maybe not now, but thirty, forty years down the road. Sugar became the new second hand smoke, so we had new, healthy alternatives until the chemicals in them became deadly overnight. The organic folks got involved too, with natural honey and maple syrup. Come, people. That’s for pancakes. My late father-in-law, a masterful storyteller, used to tell one about the farmer in upstate New York who’d come into the diner every morning and order coffee. He’d put in six heaping spoonful of sugar, but never stirred the mixture. Finally, after some time watching this process, another diner, overcome by curiosity, asked why he didn’t stir. The farmer replied, “oh God, no – that makes it too sweet.”
Along came the flavored coffees. I will admit to being partial to French vanilla. We have Breakfast Blends (not to be used under any circumstances after 12 noon), while Nantucket and Vermont have their own blends (apparently an island or mountain favorite). The French and Italians have their own roasts, which I’m told are not the same. One is decidedly bolder than the other, but I can’t usually remember which. Diversity has entered the coffee arena with Blond, Medium, and Dark roasts that run the taste gamut from warm water to “my taste buds are having contractions”. The seasonal favorites come out too. Pumpkin spice appears in the fall – actually right after Labor Day, to be followed up by holiday samplings like peppermint and gingerbread. Those pop up on November 1stand then disappear from the shelves precisely three days before Christmas. It’s rather like the fashion cycle, where you can only find winter parkas in the stores the last two weeks of October. If you miss it, you’re done. Apparently, peppermint coffee on New Year’s Day upsets the delicate coffee cycle. I used to have a winter flavor that I liked very much. It was called “Cinnamon French Toast”. It was considered a “seasonal blend” by the coffee producer, which used to surprise me. When I was able to get some, I’d make it in my office. Kids would come in and “wow – it smells like breakfast in here.” Does French toast actually have seasons? I see it on breakfast menus pretty much year round. Anyway, this flavor appeared some time in February into early March, and would then vanish away. I’d stock up to last me at least until St. Patrick’s Day. I’m told by my local coffee shop that this flavor was very, very popular. So, of course it’s gone now, snatched away from us by the brilliant marketing people at Corporate.
Those same marketing geniuses weren’t content with calling our beloved drink, “coffee”. Nay, nay! It’s been transformed into lattes, mochas, frappuccinos, espressos. Cold brews are the new thing. How does that even work? Don’t you need hot water to activate the coffee beans? Have I been seriously misled all these years? Now I’m staring at coffee shop menus that read like: Sea Salt Caramel Latte Frappachino and Cold Brewed Mint-infused Mocha Americano. This is mind boggling. The person behind me orders one of these with Almond Milk and diet whipped cream. And the person behind the counter has a button for that! Ok, we’ve got rid of the hot water, replaced it with steamed milk, presumably from live cows, but we need something from a herd of almonds or coconuts to round out the flavor. Really? Then please add one and a half packets of Splenda. We’re on our way to Yoga and we don’t want to be all sugary. I think that’s the blue packet – no, maybe it’s yellow. My apologies, it’s the pink one.
What size would you like? Forget small, medium, and large. What the heck is a “venti” anyway? One would have thought that a “grande” would be something the size of a beer stein. Not really. It would be the size of a small orange juice at the North Star Diner. And can someone please explain to me why a medium iced coffee is like, twice the size of a medium hot coffee? What’s up with that? It’s certainly an issue that the Bureau of Weights and Measures should be looking into. They’re spending all their time on gasoline. Let’s move on to the pressing topic of coffee, people.
I want all my faithful readers to know that I am moving on – becoming a Coffee Visionary. (Calling myself a Cafe Visionary for effect, or possibly Latte-Ologist).) I’m working on a curriculum for Coffee Studies that should be available in every school across the country, because there’s no such thing as just coffee anymore. Coursework will include the basics of brewing, steaming, espressoing, cappuccinoing. Basic definitions, so we’ll know what to look for in “Jamaican Me Crazy”. Honors classes specializing in flavor infusions, toppings, cream viscosity, cup size theory, the use and misuse of sea salts, developing a chocolate balance, when and when not to caramel, advanced frapping techniques for your frappuccino. They should know the history of coffee, see videos of the coffee pots bubbling on the stove. They should be aware of Dark Ages – the period of instant coffee, of Sanka, of “freeze-dried crystals”. What were we thinking there? It all tasted like boiled compost. There is the development of the drip coffee maker, as revolutionary as the microwave and the motorized can opener. They need to know that K cups have not always been with us, and that grinding your own beans is really just for a select few. These are the vital bits of culture that our young people must have if civilization is to continue. Cars will drive themselves, but future generations must be coffee-fluent.
The only place you still find real, honest-to-gosh, unabashed coffee is in a diner at breakfast time. This is the last true holdout. You order – “I’ll have a coffee.” Two options – regular or decaf. Simple, clean. Of course, when the waitperson comes to refill, they invariably have a pot of the one I’m not drinking. No matter, they’re making my life easier. All in all, I’m thinking . . . . . thanks for the memories, coffee, my friend.
I'm Thinking...No! 