Monday, November 17, 2014

Turning Vice Into Virtue- The Glam of Kitchen Witchery

I have been drinking coffee since I was a small child. My father always leaves a bit of coffee in his cup. He drinks his coffee from a saucer which looks very elegant but I assure you, it takes some skill. He used to pour his coffee into his saucer and make face at me. When he left for work, I would climb into his chair and drink the last little bit of coffee. My mother thought this was cute thus beginning a life long addiction.

My mother once refused coffee at a party because after she has a cup in the morning she doesn't want anymore. The hostess was a bit offended and pressed for a reason. My mother said coffee was meant to be sipped from a gold rimmed bone china cup. A few days later, a party guest who overheard the exchange bought my mother an exquisite gold rimmed china cup with matching saucer. Mom never used it much, but I have to admit, the coffee did look elegant beneath the gold circle.

It is a sin to run out of coffee in my house. I brew a small pot every day even though I'm the only one who drinks it. When my older stepson lived here he would arise fairly early in anticipation for fresh coffee. We drank it out of thick ceramic mugs. Mine has dragons. His said 'Mr. Right'

The problem arose when I was only getting one cup of coffee. Sometimes I drink a cup or two. Sometimes I drink coffee until I am sick of it. But my son was guzzling it down. I offered to teach him how to make coffee and he refused, claiming, "It tastes better when you make it."

I believe he thought there was some magick rite involved. And there could be, if you want to do it properly. When all was right in his world, the smell of brewing coffee drifted down the hall. His mug was clean and the creamer was sitting beside a full canister of sugar. We would sit in silence because I don't talk. I think that was a relief for him because I never asked him what he was doing that day nor did I nag him about chores.

I believe in starting with very cold water and a can of richly scented coffee. I think coffee tastes better when you have to wait on it and that's why I make mine in a stove top percolator. Some people insist that I should buy a coffee maker so that the coffee is ready when I wake up. I hate to break this to you, but you still have to set up the coffee maker every night before bed. Just like I set up my coffee pot. I get up in the morning, turn on my stove eye, then start my day. I get one cup before I wait with the younger children for the school bus. I sit in my plastic chair by the driveway with my dragon cup and all is well with the world.

Sometimes when I fill the pot with water I charge the water with an intent such as health or prosperity. I sip my magick coffee mixture and all is well with me. I take my coffee seriously.

If I was serving coffee for guests I'd use my tiny coffee cups from my good dishes. But I wouldn't get out saucers because I think my father is the only one who drinks it that way. When my son is here we need creamer and lots of sugar.  My Papa needed milk because he said he liked his coffee like his women- hot and blonde. My Granddaddy drank his coffee black saving the cream to pour over a dish of fresh peaches picked from our orchard. I drink coffee black the way the Goddess intended.

Sometimes when the days are cold I will add cocoa to my coffee. I will stir in a bit of milk and be glad I don't have to go outside. Sometimes I add cinnamon to the coffee pot because cinnamon regulates blood glucose and as a diabetic I need all the help I can get. If I am feeling poor I add mint extract and stevia. If I want to splurge, I buy the can of vanilla coffee and then my children stand around salivating and asking what dessert I am making so early in the morning.

All kitchen Witchery really is is enjoying life and living in the moment. How much better is coffee when you share it with someone special? Does it taste better when served in anything other than a Styrofoam cup? My husband doesn't drink it, but sometimes he (tries) to make coffee for me. He often fails to turn off the stove in time leading to a burnt, bitter brew. I drink it anyway. But only one cup.

1 comment:

Jeanne said...

I wasn't a coffee drinker until later in life. Just couldn't seem to acquire a taste for it until I met Hubby. He grew up in Louisiana where coffee is drank strong and often.
I grew up loving the smell of coffee - my Mom always had a pot on the stove.
Hubby's grandmother always had to have her coffee in a china cup w/saucer. And she only drank two cups.
Funny, the memories that coffee brings back....