There is nothing quite like the smell of freshly brewed coffee percolating through your senses and spreading in the house on a lazy afternoon, with a half read book lying face down on the coffee table next to the couch and some soul stirring music playing in the background. Well, the coffee maker (along with the not so romantic but so very important washing machine) is a possession I am truly proud of. And at the end of almost three months of being here, I can say with complete confidence that I am addicted to coffee.
The second thought every morning as I wake up is coffee. Naturally the first thought is saved for something more romantic. After all I am entitled to a complete slide show of romantic interests first thing in the morning before I open my eyes. I know a lot of you won't buy the concept. Yes I am grumpy when I wake up, and I don't have the romance gene. Yet I would like the larger population to believe this slideshow theory. It is so much more exotic! Anyway, there is a lot happening between me and coffee these days. I know this is more believable. So let's continue the track.
Having grown up in the 80s, my earliest 'coffee' memory is taking a sip of Nescafe from my mother's cup. My devious mind immediately identified coffee as a possible and good substitute for the horrible horlicks I had to consume every morning. Ma would have nothing of it, but did allow me to have a cuppa occasionally. Much later I realized that it used to be a mug of milk with bare minimum coffee to give it a dash of flavor and that she let me have it only on days when my anti-horlicks tantrum would reach it's peak resulting in a complete strike. Mothers!
The 80s was also when the 'Indian Espresso' was at the peak of it's popularity. Froth on top, sprinkled with some drinking chocolate, it was what everyone went looking for after having dinner at the community hall wedding. I never liked the Indian Espresso. Too much froth and milk for my taste. I preferred home made coffee to the 'machine-wali' espresso any day. So no fond memories there. Though I must say, the experience some of my friends had when they tasted the real espresso is hilarious! Yes, coffee can be that bitter and it can still be enjoyed. :)
The 90s was all about beaten coffee at home. I remember how awestruck I was the first time I saw what one could do with coffee, sugar and a little water. The tutorial happened in our Mayur Vihar kitchen and Kavi Bhaiya (my brother's friend) took me through the nuances of it. The end result was mind blowing. Why else would someone as lazy as me, endorse so much hard work! The enthusiasm spread to the rest of our gang of friends and cousins, and we had several mid night beaten coffee sessions. However, it used to be Vandana, my dearest elder sister, who would end up doing all the hard work while I merely boiled water and added milk. The brothers did nothing except motivating us to get up and get the job done!
And then came the coffee shops - the Barista and CCD war to capture our time and a share of our pocket money/initial paltry take home salary. The grocery shops suddenly had more options besides the good old Nescafe but not all were as good. The new coffee culture had more to do with having an air-conditioned place to hang out than coffee itself. A lot of good as well as bad memories from the next decade have the Barista orange background. Coffee had arrived, but for me, only commercially so, bringing the Gold and Exotica versions with it. Lavazza, Latte, Cappuccino and Americano became household names just like Lipton. But I don't remember ever walking into a coffee shop for just... Coffee. Not until I came to Bangalore.
With the twists and turns of life to mull over when the first sign of maturity sets in, the best companion one can still hope to have is a good beverage. The youthful 'dhaabe ki chai' will always have a special place in my heart and so will the coffee breaks in office - taken primarily for the sake of a break/catching up on the latest and not really coffee. But coffee has begun to grow on me as a standalone experience. It always lends it's own flavor to companionship, and it makes solitude even more special. There are multiple cups of coffee that I have.. bas yun hi.. savoring it till the last sip. And these are some of the best moments of my life...
The second thought every morning as I wake up is coffee. Naturally the first thought is saved for something more romantic. After all I am entitled to a complete slide show of romantic interests first thing in the morning before I open my eyes. I know a lot of you won't buy the concept. Yes I am grumpy when I wake up, and I don't have the romance gene. Yet I would like the larger population to believe this slideshow theory. It is so much more exotic! Anyway, there is a lot happening between me and coffee these days. I know this is more believable. So let's continue the track.
Having grown up in the 80s, my earliest 'coffee' memory is taking a sip of Nescafe from my mother's cup. My devious mind immediately identified coffee as a possible and good substitute for the horrible horlicks I had to consume every morning. Ma would have nothing of it, but did allow me to have a cuppa occasionally. Much later I realized that it used to be a mug of milk with bare minimum coffee to give it a dash of flavor and that she let me have it only on days when my anti-horlicks tantrum would reach it's peak resulting in a complete strike. Mothers!
The 80s was also when the 'Indian Espresso' was at the peak of it's popularity. Froth on top, sprinkled with some drinking chocolate, it was what everyone went looking for after having dinner at the community hall wedding. I never liked the Indian Espresso. Too much froth and milk for my taste. I preferred home made coffee to the 'machine-wali' espresso any day. So no fond memories there. Though I must say, the experience some of my friends had when they tasted the real espresso is hilarious! Yes, coffee can be that bitter and it can still be enjoyed. :)
The 90s was all about beaten coffee at home. I remember how awestruck I was the first time I saw what one could do with coffee, sugar and a little water. The tutorial happened in our Mayur Vihar kitchen and Kavi Bhaiya (my brother's friend) took me through the nuances of it. The end result was mind blowing. Why else would someone as lazy as me, endorse so much hard work! The enthusiasm spread to the rest of our gang of friends and cousins, and we had several mid night beaten coffee sessions. However, it used to be Vandana, my dearest elder sister, who would end up doing all the hard work while I merely boiled water and added milk. The brothers did nothing except motivating us to get up and get the job done!
And then came the coffee shops - the Barista and CCD war to capture our time and a share of our pocket money/initial paltry take home salary. The grocery shops suddenly had more options besides the good old Nescafe but not all were as good. The new coffee culture had more to do with having an air-conditioned place to hang out than coffee itself. A lot of good as well as bad memories from the next decade have the Barista orange background. Coffee had arrived, but for me, only commercially so, bringing the Gold and Exotica versions with it. Lavazza, Latte, Cappuccino and Americano became household names just like Lipton. But I don't remember ever walking into a coffee shop for just... Coffee. Not until I came to Bangalore.
With the twists and turns of life to mull over when the first sign of maturity sets in, the best companion one can still hope to have is a good beverage. The youthful 'dhaabe ki chai' will always have a special place in my heart and so will the coffee breaks in office - taken primarily for the sake of a break/catching up on the latest and not really coffee. But coffee has begun to grow on me as a standalone experience. It always lends it's own flavor to companionship, and it makes solitude even more special. There are multiple cups of coffee that I have.. bas yun hi.. savoring it till the last sip. And these are some of the best moments of my life...
