My grandmother, Mary, was an incredible woman. She lived through some tough times, but she always remained positive and upbeat. She was a talented cook and baker, and her house was always filled with the delicious smells of fresh bread, pies, and other treats.
One thing my grandmother was particularly known for was her coffee. It was rich and flavorful, and everyone who tasted it raved about how good it was. But for some reason, she refused share her recipe with anyone. She would just smile and say that it was a family secret.
Growing up with her after my parents passed meant we shared a special bond as she was the one who raised me from kindergarten up to adolescent. After trying numerous times to convince her to show me her recipe so I can open up a variance of her coffee shop in the city to no avail, I eventually gave up and decided to focus on my own dreams of becoming a Rockstar.
I dropped by the shop almost every day to have a taste of her delightful coffee. It was my go-to drink for everytime I felt down and frustrated. She would just look at me with a wry smile, lay a tender hand on my shoulder as she hands me the coffee and whisper in my ear "everything will be alright". Those words coupled with the flavourful coffee made my head light momentarily forget my sorrows.
When my grandmother passed away, I was devastated. She had been such an important part of my life, and I couldn't imagine a world without her in it. Who will be my ranting partner? Who will be there to comfort me in my times of weakness and sorrows? How will the shop survive without her? And above all, how do I survive the coming days and years without her coffee?.
After the burial, as everyone had left, I decided to sort through her belongings and clean out her house, that was when I came across a small box, stashed away under a heap of clothes inside her traveling bag. Inside the box were different cards and jotters.
As I sifted through the cards, I found a jotter with the title "Mary's Coffee". My heart skipped a beat as I realized that this might be the elusive recipe that my grandmother had never shared with anyone. I picked up the jotter and read through the ingredients and instructions.
Ingredients:
- 1/2 cup ground coffee
- 4 cups water
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
- 1/4 cup sweetened condensed milk
Instructions:
- In a coffee pot, add the ground coffee, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and cardamom.
- Pour 4 cups of water over the coffee and spices.
- Place the coffee pot on the stove over medium-high heat and bring the mixture to a boil.
- Reduce the heat to low and let the coffee simmer for 5-10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
- Remove the coffee pot from the heat and let it cool for a few minutes.
- Place a fine-mesh strainer over a large bowl or another coffee pot and pour the coffee mixture through the strainer to remove the coffee grounds and spices.
- Stir in the sweetened condensed milk until well combined.
Excitedly, I decided to give the recipe a try. I went out and bought the necessary ingredients and spent the afternoon carefully following the instructions on the recipe card. As the coffee brewed, the aroma filled my kitchen, and I felt a sense of nostalgia wash over me.
The addition of cardamom gave the coffee a unique and exotic flavor that filled my nostrils with memories.
In the midst of the vapor that filled the kitchen, I could see her standing by the kitchen top, smiling wryly and stirring the coffee pot. I did not know when I walked towards the pot and started stirring as a smile escaped my lips.
Finally, the coffee was ready, and I poured myself a cup. I took a sip, and my taste buds were immediately flooded with the rich, flavorful taste that I remembered from my childhood. It was exactly like my grandmother's coffee.
Over the next few weeks, I made the coffee again and again, savoring every sip and feeling a sense of closeness to my grandmother with each cup. I started to experiment with the recipe, trying out different blends of coffee beans and tweaking the amounts of each ingredient to find the perfect balance.
Eventually, I decided to share the recipe with my family. We all gathered together, and I brewed a pot of my grandmother's coffee. As we sipped the hot, delicious brew, we shared stories and memories of my grandmother, and I felt a sense of connection to her that I had never felt before.
I realized that her recipe was a piece of her, a way for her to live on through the memories and experiences that it brought to those who enjoyed it.
That was when the family agreed that I should take up the management of the coffee shop since I was the only one who knew the recipe.
The following day I set out to reopen the coffee shop. The first set of customers to come in that morning were skeptical so I had to give them a taste to convince them that it's still the same quality.
Few hours later and the shop was filled up with customers hungry for a taste of my grandmother's coffee, now served by me.
In the years since my grandmother passed away, her coffee recipe has become a beloved tradition in our family and the community. Every time we make it, we are reminded of her and the love and joy that she brought into our lives. It has become a way for us to keep her memory alive and to honor the woman who meant so much to us all.