I am getting all nostalgic today. Nothing like a good flashback to get you blogging.
Today I want to revisit the moment I fell in love with coffee. I’m doing this because, after having been blogging about this for many weeks now, trying new kinds of coffee, learning a ton about coffee, and viewing coffee from a variety of new different angles, I want to remind myself how and why I started this blog.
The day I fell in love with coffee was the day I brewed my first cup of coffee. It was my freshman year of college (late bloomer, I know, I was a spoiler Keurig brat) and it was in a Mr. Coffee (I know, I know, there was no grinder, no dripper, no fancy coffee brewer — just a plain, old Mr. Coffee. Give me a break, it was my first time).
I remember I tried to make my first batch and completely ruined it by forgetting to put in the filter. Yep. Embarrassing.
It smelled, literally, like burnt eggs and crushed dreams.
So my mom had a little intervention with me. She told me that this was how to make coffee, how to really make coffee, and I needed to learn. We had a little work shop and then she pushed me from the nest and I tried again to brew my own pot.
I remember it all very vividly. I can still remember the hissing, bubbling noise of the water boiling in the machine. I can still see the perfectly dark brown stream of caffeinated gold dripping steadily into the pot, my own face reflected greedily in the glass as I watched in anticipation.
Just the right ratio of water to beans (thanks, Mom) created the perfectly alluring aroma of thick, rich beans, with the sweet, soft hint of vanilla (it was Gevalia Vanilla coffee, highly suggested) in the beans. It filled up the whole kitchen and it was unbelievably intoxicating.
When it had finally brewed I poured a mug and let the warm clay sit in my hands, watching the steam rise up from my perfectly crafted creation in transparent ribbons before taking the first sip. The bold taste was perfectly balanced with sweet vanilla of the beans — the first and last time I had coffee without cream, the taste was too perfectly balanced and rich to hide with flavored creamer.
I swear I’ve never made coffee as perfectly as that first time.
Since then, I’ve come into my own routine of how to make coffee the right way for me, the right amount of water to grinds, cream to use, sugar is it’s a strong blend, but nothing will ever compare to that first time.
Cliche but true: you never forget your first.
The Bean Stream 