I love coffee. But it hasn’t always been that way. It wasn’t until recently that I developed a fondness for the stuff. And I blame my mom. When she started working at Starbucks, my addiction began.
Well, addiction is a strong word in my case. Some people are seriously addicted to coffee. I would like to state, for the record, that I only drink a cup a day, or every other day sometimes. Two cups at the most: one in the morning and one in the afternoon on particularly rough days. So while I do have a bit of a habit, it’s one I could definitely kick if need be. (I just don’t want to.)
Back to java. Like I said, it wasn’t until about two years ago that I really started drinking coffee on a daily basis. Before that, I didn’t have much of a taste for it. (Kind of like red wine, but that’s growing on me, too.) The only time I drank coffee was in ice-blended form, frappucino style—so it was more like dessert—or during holiday dinners. You know what I’m talking about: when you’re a kid and all the adults are drinking coffee (or brandy, whatever the case may be) with their slice of pie and mom kindly offers you a little bit? And you say yes not because you like it but because you want to feel like a grown up? Yeah, that was me.
But now, I drink it because I like it. My coffee of choice is almost always a latte. I have mentioned on here before my adoration for Starbucks' fall-time treat, the pumpkin spice latte (which I am drinking now). But I love vanilla and cinnamon dolce, too.
For fear of this post turning into a Starbucks plug, I will say I do drink coffee at home thanks to my handy-dandy Keurig mini personal brewer—a gift from my parents. It pours the perfect cup to wake me up in the morning. I’m partial to Gloria Jean’s hazelnut flavor.
What I love most about coffee, though, has nothing to do with taste. I love the experience of coffee. There’s no better start to my workday than having a big, warm mug in my hands and Hazel snuggling against my hip.
A crucial part of the experience, for me anyway, is the vessel holding my brew. This may be shallow, but it has to be pretty. An ugly mug just ruins everything. (This same thing could be said about a person, but we’re just talking coffee here.) I have several beauties in my cupboard that I reach for in the morning and I’m always slightly disappointed when I discover that all my favorite cups are dirty in the dishwasher and I have to grab one of the boy's dreary-looking, brown-speckled ceramic mugs.
If it were up to me, I would only fill my kitchen’s shelves with things that are beautiful to look at. Pretties like these:
clockwise: Chicago mug by Circa Ceramics, soup mugs by Red Hot Pottery, train window tea cup and saucer by Esther Coombs (this is no longer in her shop, sadness) and cozy coffee mug with heart by Vessels and Wares.
Full disclosure: Since we’re talking coffee, I must admit that I have never made coffee the “traditional” way. You know, with a filter and such. I’m sure I could figure it out if I had to, but luckily I've never had a boss that put me on coffee-making duty. And my Keurig has spoiled me. I’m hesistant to say it, but I might just be a coffee (and coffee cup) snob.
Anyone else out there have a love affair with coffee and its cup?
P.S. I bought those Italian latte cups. I've had my eye on them for awhile and simply couldn't resist any longer! (And couldn't bear the thought of someone else buying them!)
top image via naturally nina, by krisatomic
vertical images via weheartit