“Like everyone else who makes the mistake of getting older, I begin each day with coffee and obituaries.” – Bill Cosby

 

I had my first cup of coffee when I was eight years old. And while it’s true my cup had three heaping spoons of sugar and consisted mostly of milk – still, it was coffee. And I fell in love from the first sip. It’s a love affair that’s still going strong.

My love of coffee started with our next-door neighbor. She was a single career woman who traveled frequently on business. She often brought me presents when she returned – a bracelet, a stuffed animal, or a book. She’d call me over to her house, and I’d abandon my bike or roller skates and beat a path to her front door.

I loved her house. Even though it was the exact same house as ours, it was different, because her sofa was strewn with books (Updike, Ira Levin) and magazines (The New Yorker, Life) and it was decorated with interesting relics from her travels. She had a wooden rack hanging on the kitchen wall that displayed a collection of antique silver spoons. She had a carved ivory elephant from India and Venetian glass figurines.

But best of all, she had coffee ice cream.

The first time she brought me a bowl, apologizing that she didn’t have vanilla or chocolate, the coffee-infused ice cream was a revelation. It was exotic. It was amazing. It was the best thing I’d ever tasted.

As a teenager, my love affair with coffee continued. Now and then my best friend and I went to Old Town Alexandria, Virginia and spent Saturday going in and out of the shops, walking the cobbled streets, eating cones (coffee ice cream for me, of course), and admiring the elegant brick townhouses and the boats docked at the marina.

But the best thing in Old Town was unquestionably the coffee house. The first thing you noticed when you walked through the door was the antique coffee roaster, where beans were roasted daily right on the premises. The second thing you noticed was the wonderful, enticing perfume of fresh-ground, roasted coffee beans.

You could sample a small cup of whatever the day’s featured brew was – something exotic like Sumatran or Indonesian, or the house blend. From the first sip, I was hooked. That coffee tasted nothing like the over-boiled brew that came out of my parents’ electric percolator.

This stuff was liquid Nirvana.

I bought a bag of fresh-ground house blend and took it home. Even my dad – who could drink instant without flinching – was forced to admit that the results of that bag of Old Town coffee far outshone the blue can of Maxwell House.

When I had a kitchen of my own, I invested in a coffee grinder and a fancy coffee maker.  I bought whole bean coffee and ground it myself. I ground only enough to make a pot of coffee, and I brewed it right away. I prided myself on my superior taste and expert coffee knowledge.

Then Starbucks came along, and I realized I didn’t know jack about coffee. Espresso?  Ristretto? Crema? Grande, venti, Macchiato…? What manner of Italian nonsense was this?

But tasting made me a believer. Now, I place my order with the barista (a skinny mocha latte with an extra shot) with aplomb. I even bought a Moka pot to learn how to make espresso on the stovetop, just like my husband’s mother did.

(I haven’t taken it out of the box yet – I’m terrified I’ll get it wrong. I envision a coffee volcano, exploding all over the ceiling. But one of these days, I’ll use it. I will.)

And that’s what I love about coffee, really.  There’s so much to learn, even when you’ve been drinking it your entire life.  There are always new blends to try or different ways to brew it, new gadgets to buy and new facts to uncover.

“As soon as coffee is in your stomach, there is a general commotion. Ideas begin to move…similes arise, the paper is covered. Coffee is your ally and writing ceases to be a struggle.” – Honoré de Balzac

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A Message From Kennedy Ryan

April is Autism Awareness month. That might not even register on some people’s radars, but my family has lived with Autism for the last 11 years, since my son was diagnosed. My book WHEN YOU ARE MINE releases June 17 and provides a unique opportunity for me to combine my passion for writing and Autism advocacy. I’m donating 25% of my royalties from this book to resourcing families living with Autism. 

Learn more about Autism and the 1 in 68 children diagnosed from my charitable partner, Talk About Curing Autism (TACA).

Celebrate all the gladiators out there – kids, adults, families, siblings – living with Autism by entering the Autism Awareness Giveaway (below)! Great cause! Great prizes!

Thank you!

Kennedy Ryan