This summer I’ve been wrangling with my sisters, PJ and Kate, over coffee. They claim that I don’t know how to make a decent cup of coffee–my coffee is “weak and bland.” I argue that when they make coffee it tastes like something dredged from the bottom of the Mississippi River. When we were on our wine-tasting trip in California last month, I woke up early on the first morning, so I made the coffee. They each poured a cup, doctored it with (ewww!) Italian sweet cream creamer, and promptly whined on the first sip.
“Nan, your coffee sucks!”
“You do not know how to make decent coffee, sister!”
To which I responded, “I got to the coffeemaker first, so I made it the way I like it. And what does it matter, you guys pour that nasty flavored crap in it anyway. How do you drink that first thing in the morning?”
“But you can always water strong coffee down, there’s no way to make your coffee stronger.”
“Well, make yourself another pot.” I replied with great patience and reasonableness.
With sighs and much eye-rolling, they simply said, “No, we’ll just drink this…” Ah, how they suffered. And so the coffee wars began.
Fast forward two weeks to the Cousins Reunion. I was delighted to see that the lodge we rented had two coffeemakers. As soon as PJ and Kate arrived, I gleefully pointed that fact out. So, I used one to make my kind of coffee and they used the other to make the mud they call coffee. Other cousins joined in the debate, and we ended up with about half the group drinking mine and half drinking theirs, so no treaties were established. But, the good news was that outside of few little asides–“Nan’s coffee sucks, here drink ours instead”–I didn’t have to bear up under the burden of constant coffee derision. (If you aren’t weeping with sympathy for me at this point, you are completely heartless!)
This weekend, Cousin Mags and her husband, Miles, came to see us at the lake. We had a boat ride, swam in the lake, and Mags and Miles taught us how to play Canasta. We had a great time! Last night before we retired, Miles asked if we drank coffee and with a nod toward the coffeemaker on the counter, I said we did. So this morning, I made coffee for Miles. He added just a touch of cream, and when he took a sip, he said, “This is good coffee!”
At that point, I had to tell him about the sisters’ thoughts on my coffee. With a shake of his head, he said, “I’m a coffee aficionado–I know great coffee. You make it exactly like I do…it’s perfect!” I asked him to call the sisters and tell them, but Mags suggested I blog about it instead, so the whole world will know that I do indeed make great coffee!
I’m gonna count this as a win for me in the Great Coffee Wars of 2011. I’m not really as immature as this will probably sound, but…so there, my darling sisters! Nyah! Nyah! Nyah!