Coffee Troubles

I love so many things about coffee. The smell is absolutely my favorite. I could sniff it all day. I love the culture that goes with coffee. I love the coffee shops and the coffee language. I love to describe a drink as robust or bright. I love the excitement people feel when they discuss how to obtain a cup of coffee, and I love the look of pleasure on their faces once that hot cup is in their hands.

I just hate one thing. The taste.

I truly hate the taste of coffee. People have told me that I would like it if it was sugared up, creamed up, covered up, etc. I don't. I don't even like it in ice cream. I can taste it in frosting, rolls, cakes, and hot chocolate. It disgusts me. I feel like scraping my tongue with a comb after tasting coffee.

This is a problem that seems overcome-able.

I so much want to like coffee. I want to be excited and devise clever ways to obtain coffee. I want to drive through a coffee shop on my way to church and show up late with a hot cup of coffee that makes everyone else wish they had done the same thing. I want that look of pleasure on my face. I want an excuse to feel tired - that look that says, "I haven't had my coffee yet, so I'm going to be grumpy now."

Inspiration struck last Saturday. We were hanging out with some good friends, and suddenly I realized that these people were the solution to my problem.

"Hey!" I cried, "You own a coffee shop! Help me like coffee!"

So, on Tuesday I went to their roasterie for a cupping. A cupping is when someone who knows what they are doing prepares small amounts of different kinds of coffee for you to sample and rate which kinds you like more or less. I took a tour of their roasterie and learned the science behind coffee roasting, which is complex and wonderful.

Roaster

Bag of beans from Sumatra

Gary, my coffee educator, can tell from a single sip where in the world that particular coffee bean was grown. He can tell the amount of time the bean was roasted for and if it was roasted properly. He is a coffee wizard.

He made me some coffee and I tried it. I wanted a comb to scrape my tongue. He told me that was normal. Coffee is an acquired taste. I tasted a different kind. It was mildly better. Then he put sugar and cream into the drink and I didn't want to spit it out.

"Sugar brings out the natural flavors the coffee possesses," he told me.
"However," I told him, "I don't want to add calories and fat to it. I just want to like it straight."
"That's not going to happen."
"Challenge accepted!"

So he sent me home with the least disgusting flavor and a fascinating tool with which to make the stuff. I put to good use my special mug my daughter made me for Christmas, and I have had almost half a cup of coffee for the last two mornings. I, Sharla Hintz, will learn to like coffee, and I will like it straight up.