Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Joe

Favorite food? Does coffee count? Coffee, in a red cup. Preferably, a dark roast brewed as espresso and served as an Americano. Yep, that's it for me. If you exclude liquids, then really the experience of eating is what I like best about food. I don't have a favorite food unless you call creative combinations of ridiculously expensive local organic ingredients presented beautifully on stark white dishes food.

I can't tell you where I got my love for food. There's not a gourmand at all in my ancestry. I can, however, that I come from a long line of coffee drinkers. In fact, I'm sure that my grandmother invented espresso, or something like it. She didn't invent it in the sense that it's been around for over a hundred years in Europe. She invented more in the sense of what Americans came to know as overcooked office Bunn-o-Matic sludge. God love her, we drank it anyway. Usually, with a knife and fork.

We drank it until it became the stuff that ran through our veins. Until we didn't really mind the taste anymore. Until it was routine to add a little water and cook it some more in the microwave if it had gone cold. Or, what the heck, just drink it cold.

But one develops taste along the way, doesn't one? And one begins to discern between burnt coffee and aggressively strong coffee. One also learns you can't drink the stuff all day and keep your teeth. (Right?) So you figure out how to pack in the most coffee into a single punch and, voilĂ , espresso.

And so I drink it because it's in my blood. And I love it because it's an homage to my grandmother.

Anyway, that's the way I remember it. Truth be told, and I'm off topic here, my grandmother was something of a legend. For much, much more than her coffee. But that's a topic for another day and better told by a much better storyteller.

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