Coffee. Hot. Black. Naked. Overflowing.
I’ve been known to include a word or two, maybe a dissertation or three about coffee in my writings. So, my apologies, but today of all days I would be remiss if I didn’t at least do a small, teeny little ode to my favorite beverage and season. I promise it will be short… and sweet… unlike coffee. Coffee should never be sweet.
What better time of year to celebrate National Coffee Day? Late September. Autumn. Cornfield mazes. Hayrides. Down vests. Hot coffee. That smell in the air; that beautifully blended scent of crisp apple cider, smashed pumpkins, red and orange leaves crunched under your feet and hazelnut coffee beans… when they come together and mingle, stir up that oh so familiar autumn aroma. New England B&Bs… no coffee ever tasted better than when sipped at a New England bed and breakfast while sitting outside in an Adirondack chair taking in the brisk, fall air.
We don’t have true autumn here in Florida. So, if you live in my world, you make it up: overload the aromatherapy diffuser with oil blends of apple, pumpkin and cinnamon, then run the poor thing into the ground until it’s actually sputtering from exhaustion; have cheap and toxic autumn-scented candles burning at all times – they have to be the cheap, shorten your life by five years, toxic kind if you want to get the most pungent scent; turn the air conditioning on super high so you have to bundle up when you’re inside; keep the plantation blinds closed at all times so as not to be reminded it’s sunny and 90 outside – OK to open them during dark and dreary thunderstorms; and of course, while doing all of that, you must drink coffee – hot, black, naked and overflowing.
I may have a slight obsession with coffee (and apparently the word naked); that is, if thinking about coffee all day–every day, craving it, dreaming about it, constantly living in anticipation of the next cup and getting that twinkle in my eye when I head up to bed at night…because I know the first thing I’ll do when I wake up the next morning is to make coffee…isn’t the way everyone lives, then yes, maybe I’m a little obsessive. Hmmm… maybe about run-on sentences, too.
I blame my grandfather… for the naked thing. He’ll get a kick out of that. Summer of 1997 – we were having dinner at The Club Car on Nantucket. And I wanted coffee with cream. His eyes got small and beady, “You can’t put anything in your coffee! You have to enjoy the natural taste of coffee or you’re not a true coffee drinker. You have to savor the aroma and taste of the coffee itself.” I watched him take a lemon rind and twirl it along the edge of his cup of espresso. He told me it brings out the full flavor of the bean. So, of course, I did the same. That was it. I loved it and was hooked. Seventeen years later and I still think about that evening all the time. So, there you have it…the Glenn Mathiasen Rules & Regulations on Drinking Coffee.
That’s it. A promise is a promise. Short and sweet. If you haven’t already, give naked coffee a try… you never know. I promise to try and not mention coffee in a blog in the near future. And don’t let the picture scare you – naked coffee… naked Kate.