When our son was a toddler, he followed me to the coffee maker every morning. He waited for the beans to be freshly ground and then he’d give me the signal which was a tug on my leg. Before anything else could happen, I would bend over to offer him a good long wiff of the fresh ground beans, then I’d make a pot.
We always knew he’d be a coffee drinker. For years he poked his nose in the grinder and inhaled all the way to the bottom of his toes. He’d smile and walk away having his fix. When he was about nine or ten he asked me if he could have coffee with us. We explained that he couldn’t for many reasons. The poor guy was going to have to wait. Now days he makes his espresso nice and fresh every morning and revels in the luxury of rich gourmet blends invading his senses.
I don’t know what it is about the aroma of fresh coffee dripping in the pot every morning, like a welcome mat set out for a fresh new day. I think it has a lot to do with holding that hot mug in our hands, especially in the Seattle area where mornings are usually chilly. I love the first swallow. I love the variety and the richness of the beans. We are a unique bunch, us Seattle-ites are. We have discovered and embraced a rich culture we enthusiastically share with each other every chance we get.
Do you know anyone around here that isn’t immersed in our proud coffee culture? I do. I often wonder if they don’t feel out of place, not part of the community, invisible. I mean if you can’t meet at Starbucks for coffee, what is there to do? That is a basic social requirement in the Pacific Northwest. The non-coffee people should at least pretend. Go meet your friends for “coffee” regardless. Order a hot chocolate or something and act like our vision of normal. Otherwise, the non-coffee people will surely find themselves abandoned. It’s not worth it.
So, I’m going to go pour another cup and get to work. Have a great day everyone and enjoy the brew!