The Origin of Snobbery
While making coffee in the many ways I can make coffee in my house*, my mom noted I was picky about coffee. She said this because I was carefully washing out the coffee pot with soap...because I've discovered the only way I enjoy drip coffee is if the following are true: clean (not just rinsed out with water but actually washed with soap) coffee pot, fresh UNFLAVORED** coffee (John once tried to pull the wool over my eyes, thinking it was all psychological and if he changed out the coffee that I'd never notice...well, he lost), don't let the pot sit more than 10 minutes, enjoy. Is that too much to ask, I ask? Maybe. Anyway...I answered my mom's comment with, "I KNOW!!" and then something amazing happened. She enlightened me as to WHY I am a coffee snob.
It's my grandpa. My grandpa on my mom's side was also a coffee snob. Being as he passed away when I was 8, I don't remember that side of him as I was not yet a coffee drinker. I do remember things about him and although I was young when he passed, I miss him. I miss his big recliner chair that he would give us grandkids "space rides" in. I miss the way he smelled: like cloves and mint chewing gum. And his voice. After making this new discovery about him, I miss him even more. I imagine the hearty laugh we'd have together about our coffee tastes and I know it would be a good time. So...turns out grandpa was a coffee snob too. He would pour coffee into a thermos every morning because if left to brew, he said the coffee ended up tasting like it was steeped through a hobo's sock. Or something to that effect (I love you, grandpa...man after my own heart). Is he right or is he right?? Anyway...if I didn't wear my coffee snobbery as a badge of honor until now...well...now I do. My bloodline made me this way and I will ride it out with pride.
*I realized the other day that I have 5 ways to make coffee in my house: Drip. French press. Espresso machine. Percolator (my newest obsession that I cannot seem to get right...the coffee gods are punishing me...for something). Instant (NOOOO!!!! In my defense, John has it for when he's out in the field...).
**I am a firm believer in this: if all other coffee snobbery were to perish (which, believe you me, I can survive on a cup of plain ol' joe that's been sitting in a pot all day at a gas station *vomit*...no, really, I can. BUT will I enjoy it? Of course not. But when duty calls and I need caffeine, I'm not going to turn down caffeine), this one truth must stand: coffee must not be flavored. Do not misunderstand me. A fine flavoring added to a cup of coffee is no offense to me. In fact, I like a good almond latte or even just a little vanilla in my drip. No no...I am talking about the HORROR that is flavored coffee beans. It is a wrong that should have never been unleashed into this world. Especially the Kona and Hazelnut variety. O.M.G. I might be sick just thinking about it. o.O My dear inlaws drink nothing but Hazelnut coffee. And although I finally got the courage to admit to them I don't care for it (HELLO UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE CENTURY!), they haven't quite gotten it, bless their hearts. But yes. Flavored coffee. Just don't do it. Say no. Back away.
In conclusion...hi. I'm Rachel. (Hi, Rachel.) I'm a coffee snob. And I'm not ashamed.
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