Coffee is in my DNA. My grandmother introduced me to coffee before I could ride a bike – coffee ice cream, a sip of decaf here and there. In fact, one of my early memories of her includes coffee.
I was spending the night at my grandmother’s house. She went to bed, only to emerge from the dark hallway 10 minutes later, heading to the kitchen. “I forgot my coffee. I can’t sleep without my cup of coffee.” (Mind you, this was in the days when people survived on cigarettes, coffee, and lemon meringue pie.)