Feeding My Need for “The Bean”
Anyone who knows me, knows I have a
healthy appreciation for the wonderful black bean otherwise known as
Coffee. Some may call it an addiction, I call it an obsession. I
admit to living my life in pursuit of the perfect cup of coffee.
However, someone recently pointed out that it may be a genetic
addiction and they may be right.
One of my strongest childhood memories
is of my Dad and Grandpa sitting at our kitchen table drinking coffee
every morning after they had finished the chores. I would come into
the kitchen and steal little sips or their last mouthful, so I
started drinking it at a very young age, and neither of these men
discouraged me from doing so. My mother would always reply “it
will stunt your growth”. I am happy to report she was gravely
mistaken, I stand at over six feet tall. So, I continue to feed my
I am lucky that my wife shares my love
for the amazing brewed bean, and I am convinced that she secretly
drinks more of it than I do. Strangely though, between the two of
us, she has the superior brewing skills. She has the knack to brew
some of the best tasting coffee, whereas mine is at best palatable.
But at least it's coffee and for that I am thankful.