Coffee

Coffee and I have an intricate, complex relationship. But before I delve into our current status, I think it is important to revisit the beginning. How the relationship began. We were introduced by my parents’ fondness for coffee. As a lactose-intolerant child who grew up in an era where nut milks ceased to exist, rather they existed but they weren’t glorified and popularized to the extent of which they are now, Starbucks and I were not well-acquainted. I never had my middle school ‘frappuccino phase’, and I never really drank Starbucks until I started college in Boston. More on that later. To be quite honest, I don’t recall how coffee became so integrated in my life. I do remember my parents purchasing a Nespresso machine that found its permanent home next to our toaster in the kitchen. Both of them would enjoy their cups of coffee in the morning, and again in the afternoon. I would dotingly go to the Nespresso store with them to buy sleeves of metallic, shiny coffee pods, and wonder what was so special about this drink. Somewhere in my teens, my dad made me my first real, adult cup of coffee. Black with two generous teaspoons of sugar. I do think my parents grew tired of me leeching off of their coffee to dunk my biscuits in, and eased me into having my own cup. At first, that was all it was. Just an excuse to have a few biscuits…something to hold and sip during afternoon conversations…a charade of being an adult. And then it became part of my breakfast each morning when I was in the 11th grade of high school. I would stick to one humble cup every morning, and that was the extent of my coffee habits until I began college.

I went to Boston University, and studied biomedical engineering. Procrastination and a strenuous class schedule go hand in hand with a caffeine dependence. I was romanced by the four Starbucks outlets on campus, and indulged in one too many grande skinny caramel macchiatos during the fall semester of my freshman year. Unfortunately, my mild lactose intolerance soon began to reject even the low fat milk in a caramel macchiato. As I was still unfamiliar with non-dairy milks, I began to drink Americanos. I traded the 150 mg of caffeine in the macchiato for a cool 225 mg in what was just two shots espresso and hot water. What I’ve failed to mention is that coffee was often my breakfast every morning. An Americano on an empty stomach provided a false sense of focus and attentiveness that I relied on for the rest of my college years.

I’m not even going to talk about dining hall coffee because I could never stomach it. I still cannot fathom how it was equally acidic and smokey with the faintest cacao flavor. Faintest. And no amount of sugar was able to make it appealing. For me at least.

Starbucks kept me fueled until I had my first Dunkin’ (formerly known as Dunkin’ Donuts) coffee. It is my absolute favorite brewed coffee. Starbucks at times can be acidic, and I never found the coffee to be consistent. The brew time of the beans and the roast was always variable, and I would rarely have the same taste of my Americano twice in a row. Dunkin’, however, was sublime every time. The coffee itself is sweeter, chocolate-y, and smooth. For those of you unfamiliar with the importance of Dunkin' and the state of Massachusetts, let me explain. Dunkin’ was founded and is currently headquartered in Massachusetts. It is deeply embedded in the culture of the state, and a trip to Dunkin for iced coffee is an integral part of one’s day. Dunkin kept me company during early mornings…picked me up on those lazy afternoons in the library…became an nightcap during exam season…What I would do for a medium Dunkin’ regular roast, black with two sugars…

In my junior year, my friends and I moved into an apartment. My parents bought us our very own Nespresso machine. We named it ‘Nessie’, and it became a staple in our living room for the next two years. We never had sugar in the apartment, and so I became used to drinking black coffee. My reliance on Nessie heavily increased to the point where I would have four, even five cups of coffee a day. Whether I actually needed that much caffeine is besides me. I was stressed, frazzled, and needed comforting. Which is exactly what my cup(s) of coffee provided. During the nights where I would be sitting in the study lounge of our building, hunched over a problem-set, anxious, self-loathing to a certain extent for not being able to figure out a problem, my empty cup of coffee gave me an excuse to take a break. I would get up, shake off the negativity, go back to the apartment, and make another cup. The blinking lights, the whirring sound, the satisfying pour of the espresso…the routine itself of switching on the machine, inserting a pod, pressing the button was enough to ground me. I would take my steaming cup of espresso, dilute it with some hot water - and there’s an Americano for you right there.

Coffee wasn’t always associated with schoolwork though. At school, scheduling a coffee chat was just an excuse for yet another cup of coffee under the false pretense of networking. My friends and I would lounge in our favorite Starbucks on campus (the Starbucks inside the Questrom School of Business) and stay there for hours on end. Working? Pretending to at least. My best friend Elizabeth introduced me to creamer and almond milk, and having sips of her own renditions of a latte added something new to my relationship with coffee. We would seek out cute, trendy coffee bars to try on weekends, and taste their baristas’ renowned creations. Back at home in Hong Kong, no weekend was ever complete without a visit to Fuel Espresso. My parents and I would find just about any excuse to go to Fuel for a cup of coffee and a piece of cake. In my family, it is impolite to have a cup of coffee without a sweet treat. Anyone reading this, please trust when I say Fuel has the most delectable cakes. Their chocolate cake is dense, rich with an incredibly sinful fudge layer. The carrot cake is soft, moist and has a cream cheese frosting that you will be scraping off of the plate. I’m getting distracted. We would go to Fuel countless times in a week. There are so many memories of arguments, receiving good news, bad news, gossiping, all between sipping an Americano and bites of cake at Fuel.

Coffee has been consistent throughout my adolescence, and now into my adulthood. It has seen me grow…it helped form my friendships and relationships…it comforted me, reassured me and kept me warm especially during those frigid Boston winters. It’s what I look forward to when I start my mornings.

With that, my cup is now over. Time for another.