When she found out that I was writing a blog about Anchorage, my high school BFF asked if I’d be posting about Kaladi Bros. If you know me outside of this blog, you’re probably wondering why that wasn’t my very first post! In fact, it almost was. But my love affair with coffee is deeper that just a drink, and therefore, harder to write about.
Although I enjoy the flavor of coffee, I love hot beverages (especially in the winter – although in Australia they drink hot tea in 90 degree weather, which after my initial surprise I really enjoyed), and a caffeine boost is generally pretty nice, those aren’t the reasons I love coffee. It’s more that the smell, the taste, and the ritual of the drink oder evoke a feeling of warmth and comfort for me.
Growing up, the smell of fresh brewed coffee filled our house every morning. My dad would top off his to-go cup and head to work. Being a little girl who thought her dad was the most amazing man in the world, I even loved the smell of his coffee breath when he said good-bye (these days, I don’t love coffee breath, but I do still think my dad is pretty amazing).
I didn’t actually like the taste of coffee until I tried espresso. My dad would take me to Kaladi Bros after soccer games and I’d order an iced mocha, the perfect gateway drink to becoming the full-fledged coffee drinker that I am today.
In high school, coffee achieved even greater meaning. It was the cure for all ills and the celebration for all successes for my friends and me. Prepping for a big chemistry test? Here’s a mocha. Captain of the ski team? Congrats, I got you a latte! Boys are lame? Let’s go get coffee. 5:30 AM soccer practice? You’d better believe we were dragging our tired selves to the nearest Kaladi Bros when we done running lines. Knowing one another’s drink order, and gifting each other with a coffee when we most needed it was the shorthand for “you matter to me” in our friendship. Not about coffee at all, but about the friend that knows you best.
In college, coffee was my constant companion during late, late nights in the library writing papers, or cuddled up in a comfy chair at Starbucks (no Kaladi Bros in Walla Walla, unfortunately – still the only Starbucks I actually like!) catching up on my reading, which generally devolved into catching up with friends.
When I met my husband, he didn’t drink coffee. I devised the perfect drink for him – sugar free skinny vanilla latte with LOTS of foam. He was hooked. Now the smell of fresh brewed coffee fills our house every morning, and meeting a friend for a cup of joe never fails to make my heart happy.
My current drink order? Americano please. What’s yours?