It started with magic.
A toy coffee pot filled with brown liquid that “disappeared” when you tipped it to pour. I’d take my “Magic Pouring Perk” around the table when my parents had friends over after church and pretend to top off their cups of Sanka.
I usually got tips for my service, but what I really wanted was to sample the Sanka.
Alas, I wasn’t allowed a sip. Mom said coffee (even decaf) was an “adult beverage.”
And so, it wasn’t until college that I fell in love with the brew that continues to make mornings bearable.
I worked as a waitress, and one Saturday morning, I poured myself a mug from the large urn we brewed it in. It was so dark and strong, it took my breath away.
“Put some cream in it,” a fellow server advised.
I did, and as I sipped the earthy, milky beverage, I felt energized. The Friday night fog lifted. I cradled that brown mug and knew my life had changed.
At home, my parents favored Taster’s Choice. The instant coffee tasted like brown water when compared to the rich restaurant roast, so I confined my caffeine consumption to work hours. This was several years before drive-thru coffee stands sprouted throughout the Northwest.
Not long after I met coffee, I met my husband. His dad had immigrated to the U.S. from Norway at 19 and preferred his coffee so strong you could almost chew it. Consequently, Derek wouldn’t touch it.
We were given a Proctor-Silex 10-cup coffee maker for a wedding gift. We were too poor for Folgers (which, at the time, I considered the epitome of fine coffee), so I bought store-brand medium roast in large cans. About this time, flavored creamers became popular, and that’s all it took for Derek to convert.
By the time our kids came along, Spokane had gone Starbuck’s crazy. It seemed like there was a coffee drive-thru at every corner, so we sampled lattes and sipped mochas. I’m not a fan of those sweet drinks, but our coffee shop experiences introduced us to the flavor of freshly roasted whole beans.
Coffee drinking is a sophisticated slippery slope. As our earning power increased, so did our taste in java. One Christmas, we got our first coffee grinder. No more store brand cans, no more fancy Folgers, now we let Millstone beans rain into bags at the grocery store like we used to let jelly beans fill sacks at the candy shop.
Our sons drank coffee from their early teens, and our youngest took over the brewing operation in middle school.
We burned through coffee makers and grinders at an astonishing rate – each one a bit fancier. Derek, the former java-shunner, became a connoisseur, purchasing machines too complicated for my limited technical abilities.
Self-preservation led me to purchase my first Keurig machine. If, for some reason, my husband or son failed to brew the beverage (or worse, drank it all before I got up), I had to be able to procure my own.
The benefits and risks of consuming coffee continue to be debated, which is why an S-R headline caught my eye.
“How drinking coffee may lower your risk for diabetes.”
According to the Feb. 28 story, each cup of coffee a person drinks (up to 6 cups) lowers the risk of developing Type 2 diabetes by about 6%.
As someone with family members who’ve had Type 2 diabetes, I pay attention to the latest research regarding the disease.
The article went on to explain that coffee is a rich source of polyphenols – compounds in fruits, vegetables, and whole grains that are known to confer health benefits.
“A cup of coffee also contains fiber – up to 1.8 grams, or roughly half the amount you’d find in one serving of broccoli.”
To which I say, Duh! It’s made of beans!
According to the story, experts recommend that healthy adults consume no more than four or five cups of brewed coffee daily. Studies show that two to five cups is the range in which people are most likely to see health benefits such as a reduced risk of diabetes, heart disease and some cancers.
As I type this, the intoxicating aroma of French roast wafts from my Wonder Woman mug. I’m glad science says my morning brew is good for me, but I already knew that. It makes walking, talking and working possible every day.
Now that’s magical.
Cindy Hval 