Tuesday, January 22, 2008

(1) When I grow up ...


... I want to be a barista!


Everyday, at 7:10 am sharp, I help Papa make his first cup of coffee.

Sitting on our kitchen counter, I first heat up some water on an electronic kettle. Papa insists on only using bottled mineral water for his coffee. Not tap water --- which is potable in our village. Not even distilled water --- which is what we drink at table. Papa explains that he needs the "minerals" in his water to "allow the ground coffee to blend with and blossom in the water."

Huh? Whatever! Too BIG a concept for me. Water is just that ... tubig!

I then put three heaping tablespoons of ground coffee on Papa's French press. Since New Year we've been using this glass WMf press that Tito Miguel gave my Papa for Christmas. Poor Tito Miguel and Tita Armi had to rush off to Rustan's to buy the press and tea cups that Papa put on his wish list.

That's what I don't understand. Papa already has three French presses. And not to mention an Espresso maker, a drip machine and three different sizes of the oven top coffee pot variety.

And he asked for another press for Christmas!

Papa then pours the boiling water into the press and after 55 seconds -- no more, no less, he lets me press the coffee, ever so slowly until the plunger hits the glass bottom.

Papa likes his coffee and insists on making his cofee the same way all the time.

"Life is simple, anak" he always says. "Don't complicate it. Consistency is key. The best stress buster is a life of norms and regularity."

Papa and I then proceed to the living room, him with his coffee, me with my Yakult. We partake of the same pandesal and cheddar cheese breakfast. And we share kwento about yesterday, today and tomorrow.

When I grow up, I want to be a barista so I can continue to make Papa coffee for breakfast. And so that I can continue to share my mornings with Papa.




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