A Can Of Coffee

Phillip emailed me a while back. I didn’t quite get the whole story, but it was something about a coworker of his, who had bought a can of Folgers coffee, thinking it was individual packets. It turned out to be a can of loose, ground coffee. The coworker offered the coffee to Phillip. Phillip asked if I wanted him to bring it home.

I am a coffee snob. I buy my coffee in bags, from local roasters. I don’t buy cans of mass-produced stuff. Besides, I get free, unlimited coffee at work. I never make coffee at home anymore.

I have no idea why I replied Yes, bring it home.

Well, actually, I do have an idea why I said yes: I was working at the University District office at the time, where coffee is not free – it comes from the espresso shop next door. I’d been off of my coffee habit.

One weekend, I was craving some coffee, and I was feeling too lazy to walk over to Top Pot. I brewed a pot of Folgers at home.

Yes, it was pretty bad, but there was something oddly comforting about it.

This weekend, I brewed another pot of Folgers. Phillip, who rarely drinks coffee, asked for a cup of coffee. We don’t have any sugar in the apartment, so he mixed in some honey with his coffee.

He spoke the same word I had thought: “comforting”. Then he said, “This is like diner coffee.”

That was the answer I’d been looking for.

I’m realizing these days that I have a taste for “comfort foods”: macaroni & cheese, grits, pot pie, oatmeal, and chicken soup. Perhaps non-gourmet, diner coffee fits that category.

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