Singing a coffee cantata
J.S. Bach liked coffee so much that he composed a cantata extolling its virtues. I love the fact that his “Coffee Cantata,” as it is known, was first performed in a coffee house.
I like coffee and I love the smell of brewing coffee. Something about the rich aroma excites my brain cells. Perhaps it’s the remembrance of entering a café or kitchen from winter’s cold and being simultaneously greeted by that familiar blast of warm air and the smell of brewing java.
The old school diners in New York City sport huge coffee machines that dominate the counter behind short order cooks. These chrome vessels release that golden liquid with a steamy accompaniment, and let’s face it, that classic New York white coffee cup is iconic in shape and function.
Starbucks. There, I said it. Speaking of New York City, I can remember a time when it was one of the city’s points of pride that there were no Starbucks to be found. Now, it seems, there’s a Starbucks on every corner.
I miss the coffee at northwest Georgia’s Dirt Town Deli. When I was a part of the crew (and how I miss them!), we all had our own coffee mug, and when we arrived on our appointed day, our mugs would be lined up on the counter waiting our retrieval.
Upon arrival at the Dirt Town Deli, we would greet the owners and go directly to the coffee cup counter, fix the brew to our own personal tastes, and sit down at a round table before taking that first delicious sip. Sublime.
Swift & Finch Coffee arrived on Rome’s Broad Street and I don’t think they’ve ever had a down day. The coffee house has regulars ranging from fundamentalist Christians to liberal college professors. I used to love talking film and book creation with Rome’s Monica Shepard at Swift & Finch. A rotating cast of characters would stop and speak to Monica and she greeted them all with a personal story.
My beloved friend Kathryn Nobles is a regular at Swift & Finch, and she has become a coffee aficionado. She and her family frequently travel to America’s national parks, and I can only imagine the smell of fine coffee wafting around those campfires framed by majestic peaks.
My first teaching job was at Sam Houston State University in Huntsville, Texas. The music school had a coffee club located just down the hall from my voice studio, and in between lessons I would walk down the hall, fix a cup, and join in what conversation that transpired.
I found out pretty quickly that my body couldn’t handle massive quantities of the caffeinated brew. Mid afternoon I started to wonder if I had some sort of neurological issue, and it occurred to me there might be an issue with too much coffee. I cut down, and then had more conversation than coffee. My body responded in a healthy way.
Once in a while I will fix a cup and walk across the dirt lane outside Ranchero Musselwhite and catch up on the news with my neighbors Bob and Ramon. We sit outside on Bob’s porch and ponder nearby construction, the local elections, or the state of college football.
One delightful coffee related discovery I have made out here is the existence of New Mexico Piñon Coffee. Made with roasted piñon pine nuts, this coffee creates a rich brew, and oh the smell!
The company started 25 years ago in the bed of a 1952 Chevy pickup truck, and the coffee is now a New Mexico state treasure. The gentleman who started the company even had a pet dog named, wait for it, Decaf.
On an overnight visit to Santa Fe recently, the coffee in the hotel lobby was 100% New Mexico Piñon Coffee. They even sold it next to the check-in counter.
I brew my morning pot with 1/3 New Mexican piñon and 2/3 decaf. The piñon flavor boosts the decaf, and the combination suits me just fine.
No matter how you take it — black, with cream, or as espresso — I lift my cup to you this sunny New Mexico morning. Tell the folks at Dirt Town Deli or Swift & Finch I said hello!