The Magical Elixir

I used to hate coffee. It smelled great, sure, but it tasted like sieved dirt. I loved to walk down the coffee aisle in the grocery store and immerse myself in the aroma, but when it came to drinking the stuff, not a chance. But as is evident by The Song of My Coffee, coffee won me over eventually. It conquers droves of high school and college students every year during finals, and I was no exception.

I am a member of the generation that has been named at least ten different times with no clear winner. In my opinion, it’s easier to think of our generation as the Starbucks Generation. By the time I was in high school they were growing as quickly as the mold on the forgotten sandwich in the back of my locker. But I was already over-energetic, so I didn’t really need coffee. Nonetheless, as all high school students do, I often found myself in the comfy couches of Starbucks. Though still believing coffee to be filtered mud, I quickly discovered that I could look trendy nonetheless. My savior was the Frappuccino: 98% sugar and milk, 2% coffee, 100% cool.

By my junior and senior years I was chugging my favorite caramel Frappuccinos all the time. I was hooked, not so much by the caffeine as by the image and the tasty goodness. When I got to college, I needed the caffeine more. Everyone stayed up until at least one or two every night, whether to study or play video games or just talk (or participate in illegal activities – but not me – don’t worry Mom and Dad). I still hadn’t conquered the taste of coffee, so it was Frappuccinos and soda that helped me stay awake as long as necessary. I used to take a Nalgene water bottle to the dining hall at breakfast and fill it up with Dr. Pepper to get me through the morning. There’s nothing like 64 ounces of corn syrup and carbonation.

Somewhere along the line – I’m really not sure where – I finally came into my true coffee potential. I realized that I didn’t really dislike regular coffee; I just didn’t know how to make it properly. Once I added cream and sugar and brewed something other than Folgers, I was set.

Now I drink at least two or three cups of coffee a day. I don’t need the caffeine; I just like coffee. That is, I get plenty of sleep, but I’m sure my body wouldn’t like it if I stopped drinking coffee for a few days. I experiment with bean types, brewing methods, strengths. I have a regular drip brew machine, an espresso maker, and a French press lined up on the counter. I can’t keep any of them in the cupboards because I use each one at least twice a week. It has become a hobby, and one that I heartily enjoy.

For many people, though, coffee is a needed stimulant to make it through the day. The first time I experienced “the coffee room” of a corporation, I was shocked to realize that people all around me were drinking dirt cheap, overheated, terrible coffee. I had looked forward to my first visit to the coffee pot, a symbol of camaraderie among the lower echelons of corporate America, but when I poured its burnt liquid into my Styrofoam cup and took a sip, I nearly threw up. That really was sieved dirt. I ended up bringing in my own coffee pot and beans to brew a more palatable beverage. I couldn’t understand why anyone would drink such a horrible thing. After all, there’s always Diet Coke.

Regardless, coffee continues to keep tired eyes open around the world. But in my mind coffee drinking is more akin to wine drinking. It has all the makings for lifelong pleasure and connoisseur-ship. Just as a wine connoisseur can catch the hints of melon or cherry in a fine wine, the coffee lover can catch the chocolate or nutty tones. And there are the coffee equivalents of the expensive wines, too, Luwak coffee, for example. This coffee, I am told, is perhaps the finest tasting brew out there, but it comes at a cost: up to $180 per pound. But the fun part about this coffee is its origin. It is harvested from the feces of our friendly feline, the luwak. Mr. Luwak loves to eat coffee beans, partially digest them, and then divest himself of them for later consumption by the neighborhood coffee connoisseur. Apparently there is just nothing like the digestive enzymes of a luwak for good-tasting coffee. One of these days I’ll try some and let you know.

I may not have the budget for such fineries, but I have come a long way since childhood. Some people tell me I’m killing myself – all that caffeine – but I’m not too worried. These are the same people who don’t want to vaccinate their children. Anyway, I have more important things to worry about, like the potentially serious case of eyelash cancer which has recently been causing all my eyelashes to fall out – terribly frightening!

Plus, I have support from doctors. Haven’t you heard? Coffee cures diabetes, prevents Parkinson’s, reduces the chance of gallstones, and so much more. Don’t believe me? Click here.

So now I can savor my coffee with a good conscience. Along with the rich, creamy taste, the pleasant atmosphere, and good feelings that coffee produces, it also prevents my early demise. God drinks coffee; I’m convinced.