my morning cup…and Joe.

Those who have to spend time with me….by choice or by circumstance, tend to make sure that I have my coffee in the morning. 

The Teamster, who never touches the stuff, monitors my intake out of self preservation.  He has achieved expert status in the fine art and operation of the French Press.  He has the chemistry of grounds to water with sugar and coffeemate perfectly formulated.  Fortunately for me, years ago one of his ex-wives had already required he map out all available Peet’s locations.

Back in the day when we worked together, my dear friend Erika was known to interrupt midday meetings to deliver an additional cup o’ Peet’s with an add shot or two when she knew I had come into work early that day.  She certainly did not want to deal with a caffeine deprived katherine…or have to run interference for others who might have crossed my path in that state.

My home brew is typically extra strong Peet’s Sumatra. I don’t grind my own beans.  They are ground fresh when I buy them and a pound usually lasts me about nine days.  Besides…to get the true benefit of fresh, I would have to grind the beans in the morning….and that just ain’t gonna happen.

 
In the past, I have used this terrific Cuisinart coffeemaker with it’s special timer.  I’d get it all ready at night and set the timer for about five minutes before I woke up.  I like this coffeemaker so much I gave one to my folks. (they have never used the timer feature however….)





For a couple months, I had to share my morning cup with Joe.  My step dad, Joe. He is an Italian/Croatian curmudgeon who upon occasion is mistaken for Scotty (as in “Beam me up Scotty” ….which is rather convenient while waiting to be seated at a popular, crowded restaurant in The City…trust me.)

 














At the very least, Joe and I have one thing in common.  We both love my Mama very much. The rest of the time we just sorta nod at each other over the rim of a cocktail and have learned to get along pretty well.  The one thing that threatened the peace of the house was the making of coffee. 

Joe drinks this light brown water you could read the newspaper through.  He buys whatever brand of coffee is on sale. To my way of thinking…coffee is one of those “you get what you pay for” kind of deals.  And for me…taste matters. 

If Joe woke up first and made the coffee…I would have had to drink literally liters to consume enough…but since it tasted positively putrid I couldn’t even get a full cup down. I’d pour his into a carafe and make another batch…which of course…only I would drink.  This was deemed wasteful.  Sigh.

If I woke up first I’d make Sumatra you could stand a spoon up in. He would drink about half a cup and leave the house.  He started complaining about it destroying his stomach lining….and whatever else occurred to him in the heat of the moment. I pretty much ignored him.

I thought about putting the two coffeemakers side by side on the kitchen counter…and actually dug through the boxes to find mine.  I even considered setting mine up out in the garage.

One weekend after hearing the coffee debate for the umpteenth time, The Teamster looked at the two of us with an expression of:  “Just Shut up already”…

Out loud all he said was, 
“Ya know….I can solve this” 
 
And…he did. (sigh…my hero)

I now whip up my break of day nectar in my very own Peet’s French Press.  Sure, I have to boil water…and it isn’t waiting for me when I awaken. But hey… as long as I get decent, strong java…I am willing to compromise….a little….

Whew!  Peace in our time.