Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Java mocha joe

Have you ever noticed how things change over time? Sometimes they are innocuous, subtle, sometimes overt. Trends develop over time and fade again to what they once were.

It all started with the percolator. Yep, it's coffee time. Who remembers the days of a tin pot sitting on the stove, the heat boiling the water deep inside? I would watch the top just to see the brown liquid squirting into the glass top. I don't know why. It interested me for some strange reason. At some point my parents graduated to the electric coffee pot. I think at that time it ceased to be a percolator and became the coffee pot. Since then, that name has mostly stuck. It wasn't until later that they grudgingly switch to the fabulous Mr Coffee brewer.

Coffee has been in my home at some level all my life. My sainted parents drank it constantly as long as I can remember; breakfast, lunch, dinner and lastly at about eight p.m. Today one would receive all the warnings about the caffeine keeping one awake at night. It never seemed to bother Esteemed Father. I know because he snored like a camel (not that I've ever heard a camel snore). He was just very loud.

It sometimes seems today's generations think they invented the stuff, or have improved it in some way. There are entire aisles in the grocery store of brand after brand; roasted and decaf, whole bean and half, French roast and, well, I can hardly count the styles. Coffee seems to have followed in the footsteps of the wine industry with all manner of groups, magazines and with the advent of the Keurig machine, it has evolved to nearly cult status. It seems to be the logical step from the Starbucks revolution.

Unfortunately, even with all the hoopla, the whipped cream and the nuts, the cold and the ice, mochas and cappuccinos, no one has improved on the basic, simple cup of joe. You can keep all your foo-foo blends, give me mine straight up, black, no sugar, no cream. Smooth on a cold winters day.

My Beloved hates even the smell of it, she's heathen, as is North. I feel sorry for them.




5 comments:

  1. Don't like the taste, but love the smell!

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  2. Agreed. Love the smell, hate the taste. It is roasted and ground beans after all!

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  3. Miracle Baby feels the same as wonderful daughter, bigfoot loves it and the other two have yet to develop strong opinions. I, however, am prone to drink "frou-frou" coffee (per mr krinkles) and he drinks folgers' old-fashioned, medium roast!

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  4. Straight up, black, and made with a French Press! 'Um, 'Um, not now I have to go and make another pot!

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  5. MegaByte hates it! except for the smell sometimes

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