I went to Peet’s Coffee & Tea last Saturday to buy coffee beans. As it turns out, Peet’s was celebrating their Founder’s Day that day. They had a table set up, offering not only fresh-brewed samples in tiny paper cups for customers to enjoy immediately, but also packaged samples customers could take home. With my purchases, I received a free coffee card and a $5 Peet’s gift card, an extra reward for coming in on Founder’s Day.

Peet’s enjoys a cult-like fan base among coffee drinkers, and I count myself as one of them. I am a complete simpleton when it comes to my few passions. When I go to the restaurants that I frequent, they can count on me to always order the exact same dish. This is no different with my coffee habit. For years now, I have been a die-hard fan of their Major Dickason blend.

That Saturday I decided to branch out. I wanted to try a different blend to honor their founder, and I asked for help.

A thin young Peet’s barista sporting sideburns answered my questions with much enthusiasm and very high energy, aided by probably too many cups of coffee that morning.

After a lengthy lecture on their various exotic beans, the American, the African &Arabian, Sumatran…, I settled on the French Roast. Boring! Hey, I love bold, strong coffee.

If he was disappointed with my choice, he didn’t show it. He congratulated me, and said that the French Roast is their darkest roast. Bless his heart!

Old habits are hard to kick, and I picked up a bag of Major Dickason just in case. I headed to my car feeling happy.

Peet's Coffee Beans, plus free sample, and free coffee cards

As I drove home, all this coffee talk reminded me of my favorite memory of coffee.

When my family came to America in the early 1980’s, it took months before we were able to move out of my uncle’s two-bedroom apartment and into a gloomy one-bedroom apartment right on a busy and wide boulevard in East Los Angeles. Family friends came and gave us gifts to help us get settled.

One family friend stopped by and gave us a bag of whole-bean coffee.

Only my father was excited by that bag of coffee. He drank green tea every day, and now that he was living in America, he wanted to attempt this American rival to green tea.

The bag of coffee beans was an inconsiderate, if not downright, horrible gift. We had no coffee machine, and certainly not the fancy extras of a bean grinder. Even worse, we didn’t know that a machine was even needed to make the coffee.

The coffee beans sat on our table for a few days, as my father debated with himself on what to do with them. Then he arrived at a decision.

“Coffee and tea are kind of similar…I want to use the same method to treat the coffee!” Dad.

“You want to pour hot water on it, and just soak it?” me. Then added, “I don’t think that’s going to succeed.”

“Hem….you might be right. Those beans are much tougher than tea leaves. I am going to use water to cook them.” dad.

“That might work.” me.

He got out a pot, poured water into it, dumped a bunch of beans into the water, and then turned on the stove.

He gave the beans one heck of a cooking.

“Still not done cooking?” me.

“They are just not turning black!” dad.

I always find myself chuckling when I think about my dad’s cooking of the coffee. He has never developed a taste for coffee since. I, on the other hand, despite such a humble beginning, have managed to turn into a coffee snob.

Related post: The world’s worst husband-to-wife Christmas gift EVER

We are home!

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Category: Humor, Parents
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