Hip to the Bean

I have become a coffee drinker. There was no clear line that I crossed, no seductive espresso experience in an alleyway with a lighter and a silver spoon. It started with a cup here, a cup there, a little social drinking. At family gatherings when the question was asked "Does anybody want coffee?" I suddenly found myself with something to say. Peer pressure, obviously. Then I began working in an office, one that provided coffee to its employees in the breakroom, free of charge, and some mornings I just needed a warm drink with a little jolt of caffeine. Now, it's merely the jolt of caffeine I'm after (though not to be unfair to the coffee, the flavor and warmth are certainly attractive features, however it takes two sugars and a lot of cream to make it palatable--a practice my father would shake his head at, having admonished me in my youth that I should "learn to drink it black"). Now I think of Harvey Keitel's suave and indelible character from Pulp Fiction, who could take his coffee with "lots of cream, lots of sugar" and no one would dare question his mettle.

Note to all--the Chicory Cafe does a sinfully delicious cafe mocha. It's like cheating, hardly coffee at all...