Considering my interest in food (preoccupation, some might say), there will always arise the question of what I don’t like. And for a long time my answer would elicit surprise. COFFEE. I couldn’t stand it. It was the only thing I detested, the last hurdle of flavour that I’d yet to conquer; I’d sooner stuff my gullet with offal than take even a sip of a coffee. Not that I didn’t try it – I did, many times, hoping I’d eventually tap into some hidden magic. I didn’t. The taste remained revolting. Naturally, many people told me I would grow into it.
“Try a macchiato!” they said,
“It’s like a hot chocolate!” they said,
“It doesn’t even taste like coffee!” they said.
ALL LIES. No sweetness could mask the vileness of the nasty bean. Even coffee ice cream or cappuccino cake were firmly off-limits. Taking a chocolate from a selection box without a menu meant the risk of getting a coffee cream, like confectionary Russian roulette. (Getting it wrong was mouth death.) But believe me, this was not how I wanted to live. I wanted to enjoy coffee, and understand what all the fuss was about. In a world full of flavour sensations, to dislike something as vehemently as I did coffee, well… it felt like failure. Plus, there were the social elements. When people say, “let’s go for coffee”, of course this includes tea, but deep down it felt like being in a sub-class of hot beverage drinker. A pat on the head: “There, there, you get yerself a wee tea. Poor you with your unrefined palate.” Then there’s the variety. If you’re a tea drinker in a café you get, at best, leaves in a pot. At worst, you get a bag in a cup. That’s more or less your lot, and although I explored the world of tea with as much love and loyalty as I could, celebrating independent loose leaf producers and wiling away hours in the Twinings shop, ordering tea out was limited. (The sign that a cafe gives a damn is that it offers lemon with your earl grey; these are surprisingly rare.)
Coffee, on the other hand, is like a respected member’s club, with its own secret handshakes and special code. Decaf? Latte? Pour-over? Roast? Drip? Espresso? Double shot? Americano? It was a fascinating world, but one that I was destined never to know. Turns out I was wrong. Exactly one year ago, something changed. I was in Iceland, of all places, doing a food story, and the photographer was shooting early morning coffees at Reykjavik Roasters. My bleary eyes honed in on the frothy latte left there on the table. Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was because I was tired, maybe the eerie Icelandic atmosphere had an otherworldly effect on me. But I had a sip. And I didn’t hate it. Panicked that this spell would wear off, I took another sip. Then another. And then another – and oh, wait, there we are. BLEEUUURGH! Yes, I still hated coffee, but for the next three months I couldn’t stop thinking about those first few illicit sips. So began my slow dalliance with coffee.
Now, I love it. And a whole new world has opened up. I get to say things like “arabica” and “ristretto” and “don’t even TALK to me until I’ve had my coffee”. Everything is a novelty and as such, I’ve continually taken pictures of my coffees, to the chagrin of every Instagrammer sick of seeing yet another arty latte shot with a Valencia filter. But it’s been fun. Here I’ve shared a few excerpts of my conversion to coffee. My caffeinated diary.
2 Feb 2014: Reykjavik Roasters coffeehouse. The latte that changed everything.
29 Apr: Today, for the first time, ordered a coffee. Drank a quarter of it before my mouth cried.
1 May: Colleague made me an iced coffee. Not convinced. Had to put a bucket of ice cream in it.
1 Jun: Proud kiwi moment – my first flat white. Even finished it. Getting easier.
5 Jun: Deadline week – offered to do the coffee run. Mine is the tiny one. Baby steps.
1 Jul: I LOVE ICED COFFEE. Esp this one with dark chocolate sorbet in it. (Cheating?)
25 Jul: Easily swayed. Thinking I might have an iced coffee problem.
16 Aug: Terrible cappuccino in Soho. Realised bad coffee is a new, and very real, life risk.
23 Aug: Saturday latte at L’Eau a la Bouche. Look around at people and think, “I am one of you now”.
25 Aug: I AM ON THE TRAIN. Grabbed my first Caffe Nero. Passionless.
28 Aug: After years mooching in Borough Market, had my first Monmouth coffee. Was worth the wait.
29 Aug: Coconut-oil-infused Bulletproof coffee could be my new favourite thing of all time…
1 Sep: Can’t sleep at night. Someone suggested decaf. Not ready to admit defeat.
4 Sep: Love Bulletproofs but the caffeine high lasts HOURS. (Plus side: getting lots done.)
6 Sep: Try my first black Americano at the Finch Cafe. Had to add milk. Lots and lots of milk.
10 Sep: Have my first espresso AFTER DINNER. Had to add sugar. Lots and lots of sugar.
Also: I am never sleeping again.
22 Sep: First time in Italy as a coffee drinker. Belissimo latte in Tuscany. Heart the Italians.
25 Sep: In Florence. Iced coffee is different here. Wasn’t prepared. Sad face.
23 Oct: Have given in and accepted decaf as my friend because I miss sleeping.
1 Nov: Coffee at home now! Had to Google “How to make coffee in a stovetop percolator”.
9 Nov: NYC bound. Paced airport looking for decent coffee place. Think have become snob.
11 Nov: Tried Starbucks in NYC as I needed wifi. People drink this stuff? Had name spelled ‘Glen’.
29 Nov: Love finding independent coffee places around London. Confess: am stuck on lattes.
4 Jan 2015: Friend introduced me to filter coffee. Not just diner fodder! God. Still much to learn.
28 Jan: One year on and I love coffee. Might never sleep again. Thankfully coffee is both the cause of this problem, and the solution.