(3 minute read)
Every day around the globe, over 2.25 billion cups of coffee are consumed per day. It comes second only to water. Originary from Africa, of course, it became a thread across cultures. As trade evolved, so did the reaching of coffee, it was exported and taken everywhere over the centuries.
Either grown locally or imported, places that would prepare and sell it, either in mugs, cups or tins, became social parlors. They grew in popularity and importance, as most humans chased some of that brown liquid that gave you a “feel good” feeling. Cafés became an absolute staple of most human settlements of any size, location, or condition (still true today). Nothing brings us together like coffee does.
It became the symbol of comfort, associated with gatherings, encounters, and exchanges. Amongst familiar faces or strangers, a cup of coffee became for everyone a sort of sooth. I understand the apparent contradiction, as caffeine is many things except soothing, however, what I refer to is a cup of coffee, the concept. The taking of it, the having it, the receiving it, the being offered it, the times or moments when it is taken, it soothes us. Seemingly, coffee is one thing we can all seem to agree upon, one item we can all feel alike about.
What evolved in parlors and as a social encounter element, also made its way to the individual homes. Having a cup of coffee, for most, in the morning, became a daily ritual enjoyed until today by billions. Preparing it oneself at home, or wherever, allows for one thing: personalization. Those who participate in this daily ritual, become absolute experts in how they like their own coffee.
Every day, whatever you put in yours, the amounts, the ratios, the temperature, the container, the preferred brands of this or that, are mixed to your definition of perfection. For most coffee drinkers, these are not random decisions and are not taken lightly. They are not usually subject to change without notice or a conscious decision to alter our perfect recipe. Your very own concoction. We drink coffee just like we like it, exactly as we like it.
If you were to measure the exact amounts of water, coffee, sugar, or milky element (animal or plant-based) or whatever you put in the cup, it would result in crazy numbers like 68.6 grams of coffee, 18.34 grams of sugar, 276 ml of water….and yet, you nail it everytime, every day. We all develop some sort of system to ensure consistency, you always use the same spoon for the coffee or you know where the line for the water goes exactly (laser precisely), you use the same mug or the same kettle every time and know the exact amount it needs to be on the stove to get the temp you love. And curse a bit whenever anything is off mark.
Our own cup, whether we take one or five, is a showcase of our tiny obsessions, small pleasures, and daily challenges. With tons of special ingredients, or particular exotic additions or precise procedures; or plain, no fuzz, nothing defining it, open. To each, their own. As long as it gives a warm feeling and then a kick.
So it is clear that having our coffee, OUR coffee of the day, again whether it is one or seven, prepared by someone else is certainly a permanent challenge. All coffee providing establishments know this, hence that some even have a specialized person that goes to school for it. All attempting to deliver against the impossibly high expectations we have over the cup of coffee of our lives.
We naturally tend to develop an emotional attachment with the person and/or place that is capable of providing us with a cup that stands as a worthy rival to our own, perhaps an even better one than the one we are able to make ourselves (yes, admit it, it can exist).
It is profoundly satisfying to have someone figure out our little secrets and peculiar ways. Someone who wants to go the extra mile and understand how we enjoy things, what makes us tick and smile inside. And then will have the care and patience to brew it and mix it right.
Over the years, coffee has given me pleasure, kept me going at times, comforted me, but mostly taught me a very valuable lesson. If someone knows how you drink your coffee, that person is worthy of your attention, because this person has certainly been paying attention to you.
