I take my coffee very seriously. I prefer a real mug over paper “to-go” cups. Smaller mugs, with a petite handle that snugly fits my pointer and middle finger please when I’m drinking my normal cup of Joe (black, two sugars). Those mugs where you can barely slip one finger in—what are those all about? Does anyone find them comfortable?
If I’m having a cafe au lait, then I’ll reach for a big, deep mug—my favorite one is missing the handle, which means I can wrap my hands around it. I always close my eyes, and take a deep inhale above my coffee before the first sip of the day. I let the hot steam rush over my face, and the smoky, toffee scent envelope my senses. I wait until I drop the kids at school to have my first cup, so nothing can disturb that moment. See, coffee is a habit not because of the caffeine (I usually drink decaf, in fact). I simply love the taste of it, and the ritual of making it, whether I’m in a French press mood or go with my stovetop percolator. I don’t own a coffeemaker, and man did that drive M nuts when I got rid of it. Continue reading »