Early in the morning, it’s still a little hazy in my brain. Even during the times when I’ve been up for a couple hours, it’s still a little foggy in my brain sometimes. There is something ritualistic about brewing a cup of coffee.
First I rinse out the pot with hot water, swirling it around. I can smell the burnt remains of yesterday’s brew as I pour them down the drain. Then the cold water pours into the pot from the faucet and I measure carefully, filling to the proper line, ensuring that the magic potion is properly mixed. I pour the water into the back of the pot, and somehow I always dribble a little water down the side of the pot and onto the counter. I lack fine, or for that matter, any motor skills at this hour of the morning.
As I crack open the canister that holds that magic brown gold, I can smell the rich aroma of Starbucks coffee. I carefully measure each scoop of grounds into the filter, ensuring that I add just the right amount, and then maybe a touch more. I like it a little stronger, so that added smidgen usually does the trick.
I lovingly place the filter into the basket and close the lid. Pushing the button brings those first few magical sounds as the pot heats up, sputters, and then starts to spit the fresh hot coffee down into the pot. As the water gathers, it starts to pour down into the pot in a steady stream. The steam from the boiling water slips up around the filter basket and rises to my eager nose, and I can almost taste that first fresh sip.
Grumbling as it spits and snorts, the coffee pot coughs out the last few drops of water into the basket, and the hot water filters its way through those rich grounds and makes its way down into the pot. As it goes, it gathers the rich tastes, the subtle undertones of earth, and the ever so important caffeine that makes up one of my most favorite drinks.
Ahhhh…. after pouring a steaming hot cup of coffee, I make my way out onto the front porch. The sun is just starting to slowly creep over the horizon and as it burns the dew off the grass, I am taking my first magical sip of coffee. Suddenly, the spiderwebs and monsters in the shadows of my mind from the night before start to shrink away. One would think that the coffee would go down into my belly and start to warm me there, but I am almost certain that it evaporates somewhere between my tongue and my throat and starts to float upwards towards my brain cells.
Inside my skull, the sunrise of the coffee has begun. The cells are dancing now, and the dark magic of coffee is awakening every synapse, and each brain lobe starts to glow. I sit down in my chair on the front porch and take a deep breath in. This magical moment is brought to me by coffee – the coffee that I love.
Do you have a love affair with coffee? I know I do. It’s one of the best parts of my day. For the next few weeks I’ll be sharing with you all the joys of coffee, so please do share. Do you love coffee? Share your stories in the comments below.