I have many coffee stories. My friends Sheila, Betti and I are coffee drinkers and when we travel we can't wait to try the coffee. We did an Eastern European trip a few years back and intentionally did a 20 hour layover in Istanbul. We wanted to try real Tukish coffee, not knowing really the process. We arrived at out hotel, the gentleman checking us in asked if we wanted coffee, Sheila accepted the offer. She took a couple sips and said "This is good coffee." Sheila wondered if it was authentic Turkish coffee and asked the gentalman "What kind of coffee is this?" We were shocked when his response was "Nescafe." Sheila, Betti and I burst out laughing. We tend to be a bit snobby about coffee and would not choose to drink Nescafe unless it was the only option. I will attest to the fact that Nescafe in Turkey is not the same as in the US.
I think the best cofee I hadwaswhen a friend and I was hiking the Finger Lake trial about 10 years ago. It was Sping and very cold and we had our cold weather gear. We hiked through Watkins Glen and over the train treasel as the park was not open yet. We went one day out and at the evening of day one we made camp. Being both exhausted I boiled water for dinner and my buddy tossed me a Christmas Dark roast coffee mix packet." Merry Christmas!" he said. We both laughed as we had nonidea how long the packets were in his bag. We both had a hot cup of coffee out there in the woods next to the stream in the dark. After the long day it was one of the best tasting coffees I have had so far.
I used to visit my dad, a coffee salesmen in Maine, and go for a run near the ocean and return to the house with the smell of "HIS" coffee brewing. We would talk about my run and life, laughing, sharing, and loving our time together.
He had stroke in 2006 and the morning he died, 6 days later, I knew in my heart it would be the last time I'd see him but instead of rushing to the hospital, I heard him say silently to my heart, "Go for your run first Tracy, I'll wait." Sure enough, I ran next to the ocean on a brilliant July morning, came back had some of his coffee, got the call to go to the hospital and got there minutes before he passed away. He had waited for me.
The smell of coffee ever since reminds me of him and our love.
Jim makes our coffee every morning and always bring me a cup and says, "Here you go (insert nickname here)" , then walks back to his desk and his Bible and bowl of cereal, and I set up for stretching/strength training/swimming/cycling. Little routines are like cement. I can imagine what it might feel like to lose that routine for awhile or forever. I love that you came home to the smell of coffee again. ❤️☕️.
Your coffee story is the best -- love the way it shows us a glimpse into your life with Jeff and the joy of simple yet meaningful things.
My husband also makes coffee for us, so much that a few years ago he decided he would always make coffee for me. I could tell though that this silent promise (one that I didn't expect) seemed to be weighing on him as a chore. But still he insisted that he would make the coffee. And somewhere along the line, that also involved grinding beans.
Last year, while we were staying in an Airbnb, we discovered a one-cup machine that didn't require plastic disposables. It's like an expresso machine but is mainly for regular coffee. You maintain it by making sure beans are in the hopper, water in the well, etc. but there's no major daily prep. I bought a machine like it for his birthday, and now he's been freed from the tyranny of daily coffee prep and we use less coffee. He says it's the best birthday present I've ever bought for him.
Thanks for sharing the role that sharing fresh brewed coffee with Jeff played before the recurrence as well as the suspension of that ritual during his treatment.
My coffee story: I went to a local bicycle shop for a new inner tube and discovered fresh roasted coffee! The proprietor of the shop, John, had finished restoring an antique coffee roaster and was roasting the first batch, the discharged air from the machine wafting out a front store window. Alchemy I suspected. John was a very smart, industrious person and spoke with a trace of an Austrian accent. John had also been imprisoned in Auschwitz until the Nazis were defeated, evidenced by the blue characters tattooed to his wrist. John taught me a little about coffee - growing, harvesting, storage (the unroasted beans can be stored for years without spoilage!), and roasting. While John taught me all that about coffee, he taught me much more about humanity. After the war he studied civil engineering, move to Australia, and worked on engineering the transport of water across and through mountain ranges to cities in dry parts of the country. After the coffee roaster experiment, he and his wife started a coffee and pastry shop. Very well patronized. He then negotiated with the developers of a new local mall to secure a space in line with the entry doors to sell his coffee and related goods. He then negotiated with the same mall developer to occupy the same prominent location in all their future mall projects. “The Coffee Boutique.” So he became fabulously wealthy? Unknown. John and Mary continued to live in a simple block bungalow which they had bought years before. Always an engineer (and master tinkerer) he trained his sights on rebuilding some old European classics. You can see for yourself the traits and skills and determination that John thrived on.
Wow Gary! This is an amazing story. Isn't it awesome the people we meet in the most unexpected places...and it all started with coffee. :) I love this. I'm curious are you still in touch with John? Is he still alive?
I have many coffee stories. My friends Sheila, Betti and I are coffee drinkers and when we travel we can't wait to try the coffee. We did an Eastern European trip a few years back and intentionally did a 20 hour layover in Istanbul. We wanted to try real Tukish coffee, not knowing really the process. We arrived at out hotel, the gentleman checking us in asked if we wanted coffee, Sheila accepted the offer. She took a couple sips and said "This is good coffee." Sheila wondered if it was authentic Turkish coffee and asked the gentalman "What kind of coffee is this?" We were shocked when his response was "Nescafe." Sheila, Betti and I burst out laughing. We tend to be a bit snobby about coffee and would not choose to drink Nescafe unless it was the only option. I will attest to the fact that Nescafe in Turkey is not the same as in the US.
Our tour guide at a coffee farm in Panama said they refer to Nescafe as “no es café!”
Ha! That's funny. Thanks Moni for being here. :)
Thank you so much for sharing this story Felicia! I bet you could write a book about all your travels. :) How amazing. Thanks again.
I think the best cofee I hadwaswhen a friend and I was hiking the Finger Lake trial about 10 years ago. It was Sping and very cold and we had our cold weather gear. We hiked through Watkins Glen and over the train treasel as the park was not open yet. We went one day out and at the evening of day one we made camp. Being both exhausted I boiled water for dinner and my buddy tossed me a Christmas Dark roast coffee mix packet." Merry Christmas!" he said. We both laughed as we had nonidea how long the packets were in his bag. We both had a hot cup of coffee out there in the woods next to the stream in the dark. After the long day it was one of the best tasting coffees I have had so far.
Thank you Al. Coffee by a stream in the dark sounds fabulous! I appreciate you sharing your story with us.
I used to visit my dad, a coffee salesmen in Maine, and go for a run near the ocean and return to the house with the smell of "HIS" coffee brewing. We would talk about my run and life, laughing, sharing, and loving our time together.
He had stroke in 2006 and the morning he died, 6 days later, I knew in my heart it would be the last time I'd see him but instead of rushing to the hospital, I heard him say silently to my heart, "Go for your run first Tracy, I'll wait." Sure enough, I ran next to the ocean on a brilliant July morning, came back had some of his coffee, got the call to go to the hospital and got there minutes before he passed away. He had waited for me.
The smell of coffee ever since reminds me of him and our love.
This is beautiful Tracy. Thank you so much for sharing this story with us. xox
Thank you, Julie. I just had a run and some coffee then smiled at my Dad’s photo on my kitchen window and said, “love you.”
This is so sweet Tracy.
Oh wow Tracy, just wow. Such a beautiful story, so tenderly told. xxx
Thank you so much. I have believed since this happened that timing is divine. XO Tracy
Jim makes our coffee every morning and always bring me a cup and says, "Here you go (insert nickname here)" , then walks back to his desk and his Bible and bowl of cereal, and I set up for stretching/strength training/swimming/cycling. Little routines are like cement. I can imagine what it might feel like to lose that routine for awhile or forever. I love that you came home to the smell of coffee again. ❤️☕️.
Oh I love that Jim makes you coffee Mary B. So sweet. Thank you so much for sharing.
I love it, too. He’s so kind and thoughtful, all the time.
How wonderful. Jim sounds like my Jeff. We are blessed.
I love that. Yes, we are! ❤️
Your coffee story is the best -- love the way it shows us a glimpse into your life with Jeff and the joy of simple yet meaningful things.
My husband also makes coffee for us, so much that a few years ago he decided he would always make coffee for me. I could tell though that this silent promise (one that I didn't expect) seemed to be weighing on him as a chore. But still he insisted that he would make the coffee. And somewhere along the line, that also involved grinding beans.
Last year, while we were staying in an Airbnb, we discovered a one-cup machine that didn't require plastic disposables. It's like an expresso machine but is mainly for regular coffee. You maintain it by making sure beans are in the hopper, water in the well, etc. but there's no major daily prep. I bought a machine like it for his birthday, and now he's been freed from the tyranny of daily coffee prep and we use less coffee. He says it's the best birthday present I've ever bought for him.
Thank you so much Julie! I love your story as well. I'm no super curious of this one-cup machine. :) Sounds like a win-win.
Thanks for sharing the role that sharing fresh brewed coffee with Jeff played before the recurrence as well as the suspension of that ritual during his treatment.
My coffee story: I went to a local bicycle shop for a new inner tube and discovered fresh roasted coffee! The proprietor of the shop, John, had finished restoring an antique coffee roaster and was roasting the first batch, the discharged air from the machine wafting out a front store window. Alchemy I suspected. John was a very smart, industrious person and spoke with a trace of an Austrian accent. John had also been imprisoned in Auschwitz until the Nazis were defeated, evidenced by the blue characters tattooed to his wrist. John taught me a little about coffee - growing, harvesting, storage (the unroasted beans can be stored for years without spoilage!), and roasting. While John taught me all that about coffee, he taught me much more about humanity. After the war he studied civil engineering, move to Australia, and worked on engineering the transport of water across and through mountain ranges to cities in dry parts of the country. After the coffee roaster experiment, he and his wife started a coffee and pastry shop. Very well patronized. He then negotiated with the developers of a new local mall to secure a space in line with the entry doors to sell his coffee and related goods. He then negotiated with the same mall developer to occupy the same prominent location in all their future mall projects. “The Coffee Boutique.” So he became fabulously wealthy? Unknown. John and Mary continued to live in a simple block bungalow which they had bought years before. Always an engineer (and master tinkerer) he trained his sights on rebuilding some old European classics. You can see for yourself the traits and skills and determination that John thrived on.
Wow Gary! This is an amazing story. Isn't it awesome the people we meet in the most unexpected places...and it all started with coffee. :) I love this. I'm curious are you still in touch with John? Is he still alive?
Sad to say John and Mary passed some time ago. It was a gift to have met him. Maybe his work inspired CafeAM? ;-)
When coffee is love
One honors the ritual
When it's possible....
Love comes in all ways. Thanks for reminding us Jules with such heart.
Thank you Clark for the haiku today. :) I hope your week is off to a great start.
Making coffee for my wife .. lol
I'm smiling! :)
❤️ He made you coffee ❤️
Oh Julie, this was such a lovely read. I don't have a coffee story to share, but I'm going to enjoy reading the ones in the comments below!
Thank you so much Rebecca for reading! I bet you might have some stories about tea! :)
LOL - yes, definitely! 😁
That's a sweet story!
A precious moment where he tried to show he cared.
I tried to get the coffee habit when I was a teenager 🙃 but it didn't stick.
Thank you Claudette. HA! My coffee habit began in grad school. LOL! Studying and coffee...so many stories that come to mind.