We are serious coffee drinkers in this house. We buy green beans via the Internet, roasting them in this space-age looking contraption that sits on my kitchen counter, filling the house with an unmistakable smell that says, “Coffee lovers snobs live here.”

I grew up on English breakfast tea with milk and sugar. My siblings and I had tea contests – I’m not kidding! How geeky were we? One of the last times we had a competition, when we hadn’t left home for universities yet, it turned into a serious battle for the title of Ultimate Tea Maker. Oh, the seriousness! Oh, the drama! Russia vs. United States. My brother doctored his mug on one side of the room, my sister took hers to her own spot, to prevent spying or cheating. Me -  judge and jury. The winner gloated, the loser sulked. That’s power, baby.

Needless to say, we loved our tea. Mom and Dad drank coffee, but never offered us any and we never asked. Somewhere along the way of my formative years, I decided coffee wasn’t for me.

So, by the time I met Doc, I was still a loyal tea drinker with no interest in coffee. He would offer me a cup and each time I turned it down. Time passed. We spent more time together. My buddy Doc started looking less like a chum and more like a… yummy piece of pie. And what do you have with pie? Coffee, naturally.

I’m making coffee. Want some?

Sure.

From that first sip, my loyalties were to coffee. Maybe my willingness to abandon tea had something to do with new love. Doc loved coffee. I loved Doc. Therefore, I should love coffee too. A subconscious decision to leave behind my love of tea, trade it for a more mature, mysterious drink because I wanted to let go of the past? Perhaps. Or am I over-thinking too much?

Yeah, thought so.

I still drink tea, but only occasionally. Coffee is my first choice; and not just any coffee, mind you. Not that monkey pee, that black, inky nonsense they try to pass off as coffee at the Little White Chapel on the Hill. It’s sinful what they do to coffee at my church.

Hey, maybe that could be my new ministry! Official Coffee Critic or Coffee Perfecter Person. The idea has merit, don’t you think? How can we expect to attract new members if we can’t serve a decent cup of coffee? (Pastor, you lurking out there?  We can talk Sunday, okay?)

Coffee must be freshly brewed for it to taste descent. You can’t let it sit there in the pot cooking for hours; that’s a recipe for mud. If you are truly dedicated, then go with fresh roasted beans. Newly roasted beans are far superior to the powder you buy in the market. Even Starbuck’s whole beans are stale by the time you get it home. Try roasting your own coffee beans, you can even do it right on your stove top with a frying pan.

When I first started with coffee, I took sugar and cream or milk. Now I use light cream and some sort of fake sugar, like Splenda, that is probably bad for me. I’ve tried black, like my Dad drinks it, but I’m not there yet. If you drink your coffee black, you have my utmost respect. I’m jealous of your taste buds.

Look at me: the Coffee Evangelist. Gee whiz, I need to get a life.

Now tell me about you – are you a coffee snob like me? Or do you prefer tea? Anyone feel that I’m in need of a coffee intervention and you’re going to start praying for my deliverance? Should I tell you Doc brings me my first morning cup while I’m still snuggling in bed? That’s power, baby.

Image HTs: Writer-Mommy and A Different Street