My boyfriend says I’m the best coffee maker in the world. If I’m in a grumpy mood, I can start a fight on that, saying he’s objectifying me. But then, who doesn’t like compliments? At times I wonder whether he really means it. It is possible that he is just too lazy to move that lazy ass of his and make a cup of coffee. I surely felt so last night when he was ‘dying’ for a cup of coffee immediately after we made out.
“It’s good to have coffee after sex.” He explained. “Burns calories.”
“If you get up and make it yourself, you can burn more calories, you lazy-ass!”
“But I can never make coffee as good as you do.”
There! Now, how can I deny him his ‘daily cup of coffee’?
When I turned on the kettle, he smiled.
“That’s the power of love.” He wanted to say (yeah, he thinks aloud).
“Love? It’s called taking advantage of somebody’s weakness!” I thought aloud, in response.
Coffee addiction is one of the many similarities we have. The first time I entered his territory, we didn’t kiss or make out, as I was expecting. He showed me his kettle and a huge container full of instant coffee and asked me to show him my coffee-making skills. I remember selecting the biggest coffee mug he had (which had a rather tragic end during one of our fights), added the coffee powder and sugar, a little warm water and began to stir it vigorously. He was suppressing his laughter. When I asked him what was so hilarious about it, he told me instant coffee isn’t made that way. Though my first thought was to tell him to shut the fuck up, I just told him that at home I use an egg beater to make coffee. That kind of stupefied him for some time. When the frothy coffee was ready, he looked intrigued. After the first sip, he told me that he loves me. It was believable. After that he has been lucky enough to taste/have all the experimental coffee/s of mine- coffee with cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, ginger…and who says masala is only for ‘chai’? My boyfriend says nothing can be more refreshing than a cup of masala coffee after a hectic day.
My love for coffee is almost as old as me. One of the childhood memories (pleasant one) that I can never get out of my head is waking up to the aroma of filter coffee. I started drinking coffee when I was five. Of course, a lot of adults warned me that if I drink coffee, it will result in a dark complexion and at that age complexion was the last thing I cared about. (For those who think coffee affects the complexion, well…it doesn’t. It is as stupid as believing that consuming milk can make someone fair. Grow up, people!). And once I was old enough to make my own coffee, I started experimenting. I remember the horrified expression on my mother’s face when I offered her a cup of frothy elaichi coffee. But, she started loving it soon and now, she experiments more than me. The last time I was at home, she surprised me one evening with mint coffee. And using an egg beater for coffee was an accident. I was trying to make coffee with one hand (the other one was fractured). The sugar granules were rather too big and they weren’t dissolving. Frustrated, I thought of using the mixer and that’s when I saw the egg beater and eureka! Not only did the sugar dissolve, the coffee looked and tasted divine. I have been doing it for nearly a decade now.
I thought, the frothy coffee was my invention and I was even planning to put up the ‘recipe’ on this blog. But, yesterday morning, when I was ‘googling’ about types of coffee, I realized that Cuban coffee is made almost the same way. Only that it involves a vigorous mixing of brown sugar with the coffee and not the usual white one that I use.
When I handed my boyfriend his favourite “frothy’ coffee with cinnamon and cardamom, he smelled it and said, “Beautiful!”
The recipe might be Cuban, but I’m the one who gave it an Indian twist. I deserved his compliment, I guess.
P.S. Someday, if he decides to propose me, I just hope he brings a coffee maker instead of a ring.