Elixir of the Gods

I’ve heard it said that, “Coffee is the Elixir of the Gods that Fuels the Dreams of Champions”. Not sure who said that, I might even have heard it in a movie - I don’t know, but damn… I really like coffee! I’ve always liked coffee, since I was about nine and started drinking the wonderful brew.

My parents drank coffee. Their adult children, my adoptive brothers, all drank coffee. Every adult I was around drank coffee. Now as a point of distinction, there are two major groups of coffee drinkers. There are the folks that have coffee to get their day jump started and that’s it; now they may have some coffee during the day, as a pick-me-up, like at lunch, or early afternoon, but then they stop. I’ve heard that they stop because it will keep them up at night. The other group pretty much drinks coffee every waking hour. In fact, if folks in this group stop drinking coffee, it is likely they will immediately fall into a deep slumber. I definitely fall into this second group. Like my parents, I pretty much drink coffee throughout the whole day. The falling asleep part; well, I witnessed this phenomenon first hand growing up.

My parents, who had coffee going all day long, would watch evening television after the day’s activities had concluded. At that time, their popular choice would be “Big Time Wrestling “. They would be drinking copious amounts of the dark brew while yelling at the TV! My dad would yell for the wrestler to “get up and fight back” while said wrestler was being curb stomped by someone in a mask and a shiny cape…I never understood what the cape was for, but there it was. My dad would yell other directions at the people on the TV like, “give him the chair” or “grab his legs”. My mom would ask someone, I never figured out who, “he can’t do that can he?” This went on regularly for what seemed like forever. I was about 6-8 years old so I really didn’t understand the concept of time very well. After the nightly wrestling battle, my parents would watch Lawrence Welk. The yelling would stop, the river of coffee slowed to a trickle, and my parents would both fall into a stupor. I vividly remember going around collecting half drank coffee cups dangling from slumbering hands so they wouldn’t spill; while Bobby and Sissy were dancing the polka to a jamming accordion. This is when I first witnessed the danger of stopping the flow of coffee.

I don’t really remember my first cup of the magical brew. I know I was around nine and I was ready to join in with the fun that I had already been indirectly part of…after all, I had the distinct title of “cup collector”. I wanted to find out what all the fuss was about. I remember asking my dad for cream and sugar like I had seen on the TV commercials. He stopped me right there and said “Boy, if you’re going to drink coffee, learn to drink it black! You are going to be somewhere wanting coffee and you’re not going to be able to put in your foo-foo stuff. Better learn to drink it black”. So I did, and that’s the way I still enjoy it to this day.

I am not a coffee snob by any means. I like plain old store bought Folgers™ coffee. I don’t like flavored coffee that tastes and smells like anything other than coffee. I don’t need the beans to come from a fancy coffee farm, the plains of the Serengeti, the slopes of an enchanted volcano, blessed by a shaman, or from a cat’s ass or anything weird like that. Just plain Folgers™ medium roast coffee will do. I have tried Yuban™, Maxwell house™ and several others. I remember one brand, I don’t recall which one, where the picture on the can showed someone cradling and sipping from a steamy cup. It appeared they were savoring the flavor. I realized later that they were cradling the cup in both hands, not to savor, but to keep from spilling all over themselves because that brand actually gave them the shakes. I know this because that is actually what happened to me when I tried it. Coffee had never affected me like that before, so I never drank that brand again. I do, however, have a couple of basic requirements for the coffee I brew at my house. First, according to the coffee scoop we use, the quantity of grounds for a twelve cup pot is exactly 7/8 of a scoop. Not one scoop, or 3/4 of a scoop; 7/8 is the target. I am ok with 15/16, but if it is outside this range I can tell. The second requirement is that the coffee needs to be somewhat fresh. I cannot stand burnt coffee, it turns to acid in my stomach fairly quickly. I will make an entire fresh pot just to have one cup. This is serious business to me, but I’m not a snob.

I have tried many of the chain store espresso types and the only one I particularly care for is the mocha. The Americano is horrible to me and the other flavors are generally too sweet and off the mark for the taste of actual coffee. I had a friend, Liam, that would drink a quad shot straight in a tiny cup - I just never developed a taste for that. That, to me, is drinking more for the effect rather than the taste. Now that I have set the stage for my coffee preferences which I have pretty much maintained since the age of nine, I would like to tell you about the best cup of coffee I have ever enjoyed.

My dearest Lacey works with some very nice people. Every once in a while I get invited to an event with her coworkers as a plus one, where I get to mingle with the people she works with at a social event like a barbecue or birthday get together. I have found many of these folks pleasant to chat with and I can see why Lacey would hang out with them on her own time when she sees many of them all day long at work. One of these social events was a birthday party for a coworker’s 60th birthday. It was a bit of a drive out to their place from where we live. I had previously met them at a barbecue social hosted by another coworker that went well. I found Krzysztof and his wife Malgorzata or “Gosia” to be really nice people, so I didn’t mind the drive to their place for the party. I also remember the yummy food Gosia had brought to the barbecue and was really looking forward to trying some more. They are both from Poland and are pleasant, interesting and just really nice people. I don’t know if this is a particular characteristic of all people from Poland, I hope it is. Anyway we visited during the party and I discovered more wonderful dishes that Gosia had made for the event. I was also surprised by how musically talented Krzysztof was when he sang and played the keyboard. There were some other folks from Poland singing (‘I’m guessing) ethnic Polish songs which I really enjoyed. I don’t speak the language, but I know what sounds good, and it was very good. BUT, all of that, as really wonderful as it was; fell short to me for what came next.

Gosia had offered to make me a cup of coffee. I usually politely refuse when I’m at someone’s house as I don’t want them to go to any trouble as many folks don’t drink coffee that late, so it would have been just for me. Also, to be frank, many folks have a different taste in coffee, so I really don’t want to accidentally show any dislike while I’m having coffee that someone made just for me - as that is very rude. It’s just safer all the way around to say, no. Well, Gosia wasn’t taking a polite “no thank you”, or “that is a very kind offer, but no”. She is such a sweet person and, it turns out, very insistent. I didn’t want to be rude or seem resistant to the gracious hostess. Secretly, I was curious as her cooking is really good, but coffee, that would have been just a bridge to far to hope for.

Well, I have lived long enough that I’m rarely surprised anymore and never with coffee. Gosia had disappeared for a little bit and when she returned she brought me, hands down, the best cup of coffee that I have ever had the pleasure of drinking. As previously stated, I’m not a coffee snob by any means, I really enjoy good coffee and this wasn’t even close. I loved that coffee!! It had a beautifully rich aroma, not strong or overpowering, but full - you knew that you had a cup of coffee because it had that beautiful fragrance - like when you open a fresh container and just smell the grounds. The dark liquid had just a teasing layer of foam on top and a velvety smooth coffee taste. What I held in my hands was the very reason I drank coffee. The taste, the aroma, the velvety smooth texture and the lasting aftertaste that begged another sip, and another until the cup was empty. That cup left me completely satisfied. I don’t remember even having an evening cup when I got home or really drinking any coffee the next day…it was just that dang good! Oddly enough, I am a bit hesitant to ever have another cup of her coffee for fear that it was just a dream, something that will never be repeated.

I have since had time to ponder this coffee experience and I have come to a couple of conclusions:

First - I do not want to know anything about how it was prepared, as some things in life should just be enjoyed for what they are; not studied and dissected, just enjoyed.

Secondly – Be adventurous and open minded when it comes to something you love. Who knows, you may just discover that someone’s coffee is truly “The Elixir of the Gods”