A Tribute to Good Ol Fashioned Coffee

Coffee.Java.Cafe.Caffeine Infusion.Brew... it may be called by some other name but it is the same ol coffee.

Hmmm...when did I start my love affair  with coffee? Eons ago haha. I think I had my first sip of this awesomely lovely golden  hot 'breakfast' liquid when I was 10 or 11.

I was blown away with the taste. It tasted totally different from milk or homemade chocolate. "Awesome" was all I could think of in my very young mind. No wonder, a lot of grown-ups like drinking coffee. I felt like I was an 11-year old "grown-up"

I stole coffee sips from my Lola's cup and of course, from mom's.  I was delirious with excitement when mom made me her official coffee maker at age 12.  Imagine that haha! And at that young age, it was sheer heaven to me, making the delicious brew day in and day out. Me and coffee. Coffee and me. What a piping hot perfect combination!

I guess the coffee-making task further heightened my  coffee appreciation. It became sort of a sacred ritual that I look forward to. On most days, coffee used back then was instant coffee - it was Nescafe, Great Taste or Folgers from relatives visiting from abroad. I  learned to brew coffee using the trusty coffee maker and my,  it was magical! The aroma of coffee permeating the air simply made me feel up in the clouds and comforting and homey...

As days turn into months and later years,  I realized Mama was an avid coffee drinker.  A mug [bigger than your ordinary cup] of coffee or two for breakfast.  She would take around 4-5 cups plus another two more when she is having  her "moments". Whether it was a plain instant kind, or  3-in-1 instant pack or brewed,  coffee would always be a comfort drink.

Just like Mama, I enjoyed the drink immensely.  Coffee became my constant companion through the years; a buddy that I could count -  in my zany victories, disappointments, stressful  bad hair days and fab hair days as well,  in my happy days and of course, my countless  "moments" with friends and family.

Even now,  I still regard coffee making a special ritual. And lucky me, this  ritual has been passed on to  my precocious and smarty four-year old daughter, Ely who has  learned to make coffee for her cooky mother [that's me] exhibiting the same sheer excitement when I was a kid. Hmmm....deja vu?

Care for a  cuppa?