How I Became a Coffee Snob Without Meaning To

I never set out to become a coffee snob.

It just... happened.

Like gray hair, reading ingredient labels for fun, or making that little "oof" sound every time you stand up. One day you realize you've become the sort of person you used to roll your eyes at.

The blame, oddly enough, goes back to 1992.

After leaving the Navy, I took a job in what today would probably be called a coffee bar. Back then, it was simply a coffee shop that took coffee so seriously I suspect the beans had performance reviews.

Sure, we made lattes, cappuccinos, and all the other fancy drinks. There were pastries. There was an impressive assortment of chocolates.

But the real celebrities were the coffee beans. Rows and rows of them. Beans from countries I hadn't thought about since high school geography class, each one proudly insisting it was unlike every other bean in the room.

When someone ordered coffee, we didn't reach for a can of pre-ground coffee that had been sitting on a shelf since the Reagan administration. We measured whole beans, ground them fresh, and brewed that cup right then and there.

Up until then, I honestly thought coffee came in two varieties: regular and decaf.

As it turns out, coffee is every bit as complicated as wine. The "bean" is actually the seed of a fruit. Where it grows matters. The soil matters. The elevation matters. Rainfall matters. Apparently coffee beans all have rich origin stories.

Some coffees are bright and lively. Others are earthy or chocolatey. Some have fruity notes. Others are so smooth you begin to wonder why anyone ever poured flavored creamer into perfectly innocent coffee.

And once you learn that, you can't unknow it. It's like discovering your favorite song has been slightly out of tune your entire life. You can never go back.

Fast-forward more than thirty years, and my morning coffee routine has become... elaborate.

Most people buy a can of coffee.

I use five different types of beans. Not always the same five, either. Half the fun is experimenting. One bag runs low, another catches my eye, or I'm simply in the mood for something different. The lineup changes constantly.

Every morning I scoop a little from each bag into the grinder. Then I add a generous scoop of cacao nibs. (At this point I'm fully aware I sound like someone who casually uses words like mouthfeel in conversation.) The grinder does its thing. The coffee maker performs what I can only describe as alchemy. And somewhere between the aroma of freshly ground beans and that wake-me-up sip...

Heaven in a Cup appears.

The cacao nibs don't make the coffee taste like chocolate. They simply add a deeper richness that my husband and I absolutely love. The finished cup doesn't taste like any one coffee because it isn't. It's our own custom blend, and no two mornings are ever exactly alike.

The downside is that I've become one of those people.

Restaurant coffee is tolerated with quiet resignation. Hotel coffee sends me immediately to Google Maps to locate the nearest independent coffee shop. Office coffee? I'll bring my own. As for instant coffee... I'm grateful it exists for people who enjoy that sort of thing.

I don't expect everyone to go to these lengths. Most people are perfectly happy opening a can of coffee, brewing a pot, and getting on with their lives.

I sometimes envy those people. Life was undoubtedly simpler before I learned what freshly ground, custom-blended coffee could taste like.

On the other hand...

Tomorrow morning I'll wander into the kitchen, choose five different coffees depending entirely on my mood, toss in my scoop of cacao nibs, and once again create Heaven in a Cup.

So yes, I became a coffee snob completely by accident. At this point, there's really no going back. Besides, I already own five bags of coffee.

Here's what went into this morning's Mt. Comfort Coffee: LavAzza QualitA Oro, Copper Moon Southern Pecan, Caffe' Borbone Miscela Rossa, Manatee Gourmet Coffee, Cacao Nibs, unbleached Cone Coffee Filters.

Affiliate Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. If you choose to buy through my links, it helps support Tidepool Musings at no additional cost to you.