Coffee . . . a favorite, favorite joy of mine

I don’t remember my first cup of coffee. I was very young. I do know that it was served to me by one of my grandmothers because neither of my parents drank coffee and all of my grandparents did. On the special occasion where I’d spend a night at one of my grandparents homes, I’d wake up in the morning to breakfast cooking and that amazing aroma of fresh brewed coffee. My grandmothers would give me what I would estimate today to be equal parts of coffee, cream, and sugar. Warm and sweet! Over the years, I’ve eliminated the sugar and cream and drink it black. But, I’ve also been roasting my own coffee beans for around 17 years now. More about that later. My point is that I love coffee. I love the aroma, the flavor, and the sentimental reminder of my grandparents and childhood.