Espresso yourself...

Black as the devil, Hot as hell, Pure as an angel, Sweet as love.

Surrendering to coffee is one of my life's pleasures, and sharing a cup of coffee with friends fills me with nostalgic sentiments. Sometimes a cup of coffee is more than just a cup of coffee. Its familiar taste and aroma can take one back to childhood, to a place of comfort where a mother, aunt or grandparent served up kindness along with a rich, steaming mug of barako.

I always believe that I was bottle-fed not with milk but with coffee when I was a baby. Coffee molecules stir up my blood, stimulate my mind, and warm my heart. And what's office and showbiz gossips would be like without cups of coffee being shared in the pantry?

I remember the air of quiet anticipation in my grandmother’s kitchen when I was a kid. Native coffee was brewing 24/7…aunts and uncles and their friends were having coffee at all times. Passionate debates took place at my grandmother’s dining table over mugs of hot, black coffee. Plans were concocted, ideas expounded, tempers cooled and fears were calmed. I loved the fever of it all---voices rose and dissolved into sounds of hot steaming liquid being drank, all punctuated by hums of conversations.

Lola Fanny served us kids with a lighter brew and not without a warning that strong coffee would stunt our growth. My brothers and younger cousins would add steamed rice into their coffee while my sister and I would dip pandesal into our mugs. The warmth and essence of my Lola’s espresso was one of my childhood’s flavorful indulgences.

Note: the photo is not mine