Mocha Java

I can remember, as child, I loved the aroma. Coffee smelled so rich and warm. My parents certainly seemed to love it. First thing in the morning the machine started grumbling and spitting its morning greeting. In the evening, Mom and Dad sipped cups as they watched television. Even when we went out to eat, they always orderd coffee and it was always black, with no sugar.

I, of course, wanted to try it. My parents laughed, and said I wouldn't like it. However, it was always available, so I finally managed to sneak a taste.

Now, understand, my parents drank coffee black, no sugar. They reheated the coffee pot over and over. To make a new pot, new grounds were dumped in on top of the old until the basket got too full to manage. Need I say "ick?"

I went back to soda.

As I got older, the mornings, instead of waking me with the music of birdsong and the adventure of a new day started clunking me upside the head with realization that reality bites.

You see, I was working night shift at a donut shop next to a porn store (don't you love those college jobs?) At four in the morning, with the smell of old powdered sugar permeating my skin, tea didn't cut it. Soda was too sweet. Nothing propped the ole' eyes open. Nothing, that is, until I was introduced to a large cup of half hot chocolate, half coffee.

You see, coffee has caffeine. Lots and lots of glorious caffeine.

I discovered that wonderfull sensation of caffeine jitters. I could feel my pulse speed up in anticipation from just the steam rising off the cup. My mind would race so fast, zooming from thought to thought.

Caffeine is cool.

Another important thing I learned from places like Coffee People, Starbucks, and from my "Vente Peppermint Mocha" niece and "tall haff caff soy mocha with mint and whip, no lid" brother was that you can add enough stuff to cover up the coffee flavor.

It's refined over the years. I learned to add a dash of salt to the grounds to take away the bitterness. Working at wineries taught me to freeze the whole beans and grind them fresh for each pot. Cinnamon can be nice. So can Bailey's.

Now, silly me, I envision coffe growing on vines, like grape vines, and Juan Valdez leading a burro up and down the rows. Advertising will get you every time.

Actually, the coffee plants take three to four years to begin producing fruit and grow ten meters (more than 30 feet) high unless pruned back. It takes 30 to 35 weeks for the whole process from flower to red coffee bean. See more about coffee plants here .