Coffee Break

I took a coffee break in my house on Saturday morning resting on the couch with Sammie the cat. Fans blowing. Morning sounds drifting in through open windows. Sounds of bird calls, lids hitting trash cans, children playing in the plastic kitchen in the courtyard while loudly narrating in short Italian sentences. Ones I could understand with my rusty Italian from when I was an exchange student in Piedmont more than thirty-five years ago.

I took a coffee break before I’d even started my day. I poured coffee into my favorite mug and sat, feet up, under a faded red blanket, staring out the window at the brick wall and the sliver of blue sky. Sammie hopped up onto the green ottoman, stretched, tearing the fabric just slightly, and then stepped over me into her space between my hip and the back of the couch. She scooted backwards before she lay down, draping her tail over my arm and dipping the tip into my coffee cup. She needed a break too.

It’s been a long two weeks. She’s been home alone. I’ve been at work. Long weeks of events celebrating people take it out of me. There’s so much walking and talking and smiling. And anticipating situations and solving the problems that arise. I’m in the hospitality business. Coffee breaks are essential and must be built into the schedule.

I have a vague memory of the first time I tasted coffee. Burning, bitter, dirt-like. I couldn’t understand why my parents drank the stuff. It smelled wonderful but tasted as bad as powdered cocoa. In my house growing up, there was always a pot of coffee going. My parents drank it with half and half by the quarts from morning ‘til night.

It was sometime in high school that I started drinking coffee regularly and, like my parents, I drank it with half-and-half, light no sugar, for years. I’d drink it with milk when no half-and-half was available. We drank it caffeinated. I never understood why people drank decaf. What was the point? Like my parents, I drank coffee all day, in the morning, quickly running from place to place throughout the day, with a cigarette when I needed a break, at night. Cup after cup. Coffee was an important part of every day.

It’s been years since I quit smoking. I still drink coffee in the morning but I drink it half decaf, half regular. I get it now. Drinking half decaffeinated coffee doesn’t make me jittery. They make my favorite coffee, Chock full o’Nuts, “1/2 Caffeine.”

Chock full o’Nuts coffee, by the way, has no nuts in it. The founder, William Black, ran nut shops and during the Great Depression converted them into lunch counters where they served coffee. Read more here.

I’ll have one cup of coffee after lunch and then stop for the day. It was sometime in my 50s that I switched to drinking it black. Now, I love my coffee burning, bitter, dirt-like. The only time I veer from this way of drinking coffee is when I get the opportunity to have a properly made espresso which I learned to order “corto” when I lived abroad. Not everyone makes a good short shot but when they do it’s a buttery elixir that could induce love. I add a packet of sugar, give it a quick stir, and drink it down in one easy gulp.

My coffee break on Saturday morning put me into a relaxed mood and set the tone for the rest of the weekend. One I filled with reading, yoga, going to the market, baking.

I hope this little read gave you a break, maybe even over a cup of coffee, and set you up for a lovely rest of your day.

Here’s to delicious moments!

Warmly,

Tiffany

P.S. They had rhubarb at the farmers market on Saturday so I grabbed a bundle and some apples and made an apple-rhubarb crisp and some rhubarb curd. Sharing the recipes in case you’re in the mood for cooking.

• Apple-Rhubarb Crisp Recipe

• Rhubarb Curd Recipe