There is something about that first cup of coffee. Today mine came at almost four in the afternoon. I spent most of my day watching season five of Grey’s An
atomy so now here I sit with a cup.
For myself it’s the smell of a pot brewing . If I was were to be honest my coffee is occasionally not the best. I prefer a little on the strong side. Most people I know don’t. So to me a weaker cup is mediocre at best. I guess that makes me a Starbucks girl in a Tim Horton world. I prefer my coffee to come from Guatemala.
There was once many years ago when I was pregnant with the youngest that the taste of coffee made me ill. I would brew a cup worth anyway just to smell it. Almost sixteen years later that child isn’t much of a coffee lover.
Once at a clothing exchange I was put in charge of making coffee. That is when I learned that making coffee for the masses meant that I had to tailor it for everyones pallets. Not just mine. Trail and error. I have had friends add water to my coffee. I must add here that it is not strong that a spoon would stick straight up. Most people though drink it.
There was a time I wouldn’t drink the stuff . At all. When I started I needed to add sugar. You must know someone who is that person who adds three or more teaspoons to a cup. That was me. Now I drink it with just cream and not the sweetened coffee creamers . Occasionally black because I can’t drink milk with it. Just cream the 18 percent kind. Well back to enjoying my cuppa java.