Delicious Coffee

If you like old-fashioned, non-electric things, here's a great place to nose around:


http://www.lehmans.com/


I've gone on a "coffee kick" lately, and I sure do eye a couple of their coffee percolators. I love the sound and smell of coffee percolating!


They also have a book section, and one I ordered recently was "The Prairie Girl's Guide to Life" by Jennifer Worick. Fun reading! Lots of projects, information and ideas, and I've already picked a few to try that are new to me.


At one point in this book, she mentions her aversion to coffee, blaming it on sipping her dad's or grandma's black coffee when she was younger. IMMEDIATELY a story came to mind.


Grandma W. told me this story several times, and I grimmaced every time I heard it. It seems when she was pretty little, she asked her mother for some coffee, she wanted to try it. So her mother said, "I'll fix you some." Then when Grandma tried it, it was awful!!! Her mother had put a healthy dose of SALT in it! I suppose Great Grandma was perhaps trying to keep Grandma from starting the habit of drinking coffee so young? Or didn't want her to start drinking it at all? Or the adults wanted it all for themselves? (LOL) But OO-OOH, the thought of salty coffee just sets my teeth on edge!


The first time I tried coffee was at a high school football game. A COLD high school football game. I wanted something hot to drink, so I went to visit the concession stand. Well, they were out of hot chocolate. Rats. So I got some coffee. And as I remember, I didn't doctor it up any, just took it as it was, and went back up to the stands to shiver. I sipped on it, and OH was it BITTER, but it was hot, and that's all that mattered at that moment!


So when I drink coffee, I'm like Dad was, I have to doctor it up. I like a little coffee in my cream and sugar. And flavored creamers can be delicious! And half-and-half. I'm also like Dad was - I like to dunk things in coffee (or tea or hot cocoa) --- cookies, biscotti, donuts, graham crackers, etc. He was fond of dunking either toast or crackers, or bread of some kind. So I definitely inherited this trait.


Mom was a coffee drinker in her earlier years. I've seen all kinds of photos in the family albums, where a cup of coffee was a fixture a lot of the time, especially if it involved a meal or visiting. Even when I was at home and relatives visited, the coffee pot was ready to go. Now when I say Mom drank coffee, I think she was addicted to it at one time, or it was at least an awfully big habit. She told me one time that she used to drink 12-14 cups a day. Two cups when she got up with breakfast, two mid-morning, two with dinner, two in the afternoon, two with supper, maybe two in the evening. That's the gist of it, anyway. Good grief, how did she sleep?


Anyway, that came to a screeching halt. When I was a freshman in high school, she got sick with gall bladder trouble, and was in the local hospital for awhile. After she got to feeling better, while there in the hospital yet, she asked for some coffee. They brought it with her meal. She thought it smelled like "skunk." She sipped it and couldn't drink it. She thought, "Maybe a fresh pot in the morning will taste better." So the next morning she tried the coffee again. Still SKUNK!!! She never could drink it after that. She thought it smelled and tasted like skunk! So from then on, it was iced tea.


I enjoy my little 4-cup coffee maker. It's a cute little thing, sitting on top of the microwave with some favorite mugs. I usually drink either de-caf or half-caf, so I don't get too caffeined-up. I make enough for a couple of mugs, then call it good for the day. Unless some sounds good in the evening, then it's decaf for sure!


What I'd really like to try making some day is boiled coffee, like the old-time cowboys drank out on the range. They might've had the benefit of sugar, but maybe not, it might've been a scarce commodity. Pretty sure there wasn't any Coffee-Mate* Belgian Chocolate Toffee creamer. Anything I've read about that time suggests black coffee around the campfire ... stout enough to make your boots walk away by themselves! In a tin cup. But it still intrigues me, and I may have to try it someday.