in love with coffee – a story about beginnings

I have been in love with coffee, since I was a child. I have also been in love with food, but that’s another story 😛

I used to love sleeping over at my grandparents’ house. It was the place where I would do whatever I wanted ate the best food and feel the genuine love that only grandparents can give you.

The best part of the sleepovers, though, was the mornings.

I vividly remember waking up, while still dark outside.

At first, I wouldn’t realize what woke me up, but soon enough, I would recognize the sound of the old electric grinder that my grandpa used, to ground his coffee beans.

My grandpa had a ritual: he would wake up at about 5.30, take his book from his bed side table, go to the kitchen and, thus, begin his day.

I can still feel the smell of the freshly grounded coffee, a smell that will always remind me of childhood and pure, unconditional love.

He would then drink his coffee, smoke his cigarette and read his book in the small kitchen, while the world was still quiet and unaware.

I would go back to sleep, surrounded by the smell of now freshly brewed coffee, knowing that soon enough, my grandpa or grandma would wake me up.

I am, by no means, a connoisseur, but I always enjoy wholeheartedly a cup of fresh coffee and I try to enjoy a specific type of coffee, during each of my travels.

While at home, I fight with my espresso machine and browse the internet for new ideas to enjoy my coffee.

But, each time, I say thank you, in my head, to the person who passed over his love for coffee to me, my grandpa.