When I was a kid, many many many many moons ago (well… okay… that might be overkill… but hey…) coffee always came out of a jar. Usually the cheapest jar anyone could find and taste (enjoying the coffee) wasn’t actually required, or so it seemed. As long as there was coffee, there was life. There was also Postum, but to this day I still don’t get that one… but then, I don’t “do” decaf, either.
It was the first coffee I ever tasted.
It was the first coffee (not the last, though) that I ever hated.
I was past 18 before I ever had a cup of coffee that was from a pot, not from hot tap water and a jar. I learned that coffee didn’t always suck. I was by no means a coffee connoisseur despite reading rec.coffee for years. I enjoyed coffee and it became a lot, to me, like I remember the coffee of my childhood. Consumed hot, warm or room temperature, sometimes with cream and/or sugar, usually black, often several days old.
I have found coffee that I love and coffee that I hate.
I have also discovered this wonderful invention… instant coffee. It now comes in small jars and (wonder of wonders) one cup pre-measured packets… packets I can drop in my backpack and take with me to dissolve in hot tap water. It fills in when I can’t find something else and it can be used on the run (and you don’t have to take the lid off of a packet… so it doesn’t hurt quite so much when you have achey breaky joints… a quick snip with scissors and you are off).
It isn’t wonderful but it doesn’t suck and it brings back memories… and it reminds me that I was told that I would someday enjoy coffee.
And sometimes to totally enjoy coffee… sometimes it is just a means to an end.