I’ve been sipping coffee for over 20 years.  I grew up more on the tea side of the counter, but always watched in amazement as my Memere (my Grandmother) drank her coffee scalding hot, and black.  I equated coffee with being grown up and wise, like my Memere.

Coffee had the allure of being a drink that only adults could have, and also a weird enough taste that you wondered why they were so into it.  I remember wanting to want it, but thinking my tea with sugar and milk was so much tastier.  I’m not sure when I crossed over, but I think it might have been at the Tatnuck Square Bookseller in Worcester, Mass-back in high school.

I was lucky enough to be in college when coffee shops shifted from a place to eat and drink, to a place to study, work, spend hours….oh the novelty of 1993.  You have to understand, I went to college in Missouri-where most people laughed hartily at the idea of paying $3 for a cup of Jo.  I don’t want to mention any large well-known coffee establishments-but we both know who I’m talking about.  Most Missourian’s would buck at the idea of ordering there.  (See what I did there?)  I am very clever.

This contraption above, used for the pour-over method is how we make our coffee these days.  We’ve been married 20 years, and we’ve probably had as many coffee pots.  Mr. Coffee’s, espresso machines, a series of $100 pots-I can’t even remember the brands.  I can honestly say that coffee drinking is the most consistent habit in both of our lives-I’ll get up at 7am and run to the store if we are out of coffee.  Well, I used to.  That was when I was in charge of coffee.  All of that has changed.  (Also, thank you Amazon).

If anyone ever tells you that you cannot change yours spouse, believe them.  It’s definitely true.  But if anyone tells you that people don’t change-that’s a bunch of crap.  I’ve had the first row seat to watching my husband change for many years.  One of those changes was a new interest in the science behind making the best cup of coffee.  This started in Denver, with the french press.  I would make a pot full of coffee, and he’d start measuring, using a timer, and spending 15 minutes to make a very strong cup of coffee.  I felt like the oils and acids were just too up front and as the coffee cooled, I really didn’t like the flavors.  So that was that.  I went back to Mr. Coffee and Bob continued to make french press for himself.

Since we’ve moved, he decided to try the pour over method.  Every morning, when I get up, I simply start a pot of water to boil, then I head out to walk our pup.  When I return, the minute I step inside, the smell of freshly soaked dark roast beans hits my senses.  It is that dramatic. I mean it. Everyday.  So good.