Instant Coffee during Ramadan

Since I made two trips Stateside in a matter of a month, on the unexpected second trip back for my grandfather's funeral, I was able to pick up a few things I hadn't had a chance to pick up on the first trip - namely, some fresh coffee beans of some of my favorite blends. It was immediately back to work as soon as I returned, so I brewed myself some strong coffee before heading into work the first few days back.

Its Ramadan, so its not polite to drink or eat in front of colleagues who are fasting. And brewing filtered or Arabic coffee would be a special kind of cruelty because the smells drift quickly and thoroughly through the office hallways. So when I didn't have time for brewed coffee these last few mornings (add to jet lag mornings the "back to school" routine, and I'm back to my frazzled self!), I stood in the empty kitchen at work staring at a sad, lonely jar of instant coffee.

A jar of instant coffee brings back memories of cold winter mornings in my childhood home. Whether it was because she was the only coffee-drinking adult at home, or it was a cost savings measure for a family of 6, or she just didn't have the time to brew coffee while shuffling 4 children out the door to different schools, my mother would religiously sip a cup of instant coffee while throwing the last few items into lunch bags or signing various permission slips for school activities.

The only day of the week I saw my mother drink brewed coffee was on Sundays - after the traditional early afternoon, four-course family Italian dinner at my grandparents house. As a young child, I'd be encouraged to take a nap directly after the dinner plates were cleared and I'd wake up a few hours later to the smell of coffee wafting through the air. My great aunt would forbid me from drinking any coffee, slapping my hand and warning, "If you drink coffee as a child it will make you short!" (she never mentioned how my Italian genes might prevent my growth beyond 5'2"!).

My grandmother brewed a perfectly strong tasting coffee. Somehow, I inherited her talent in this regard. I don't have a formula or a specific measure of coffee to water down, but my coffee is never weak and never undrinkable.

So you see, now I'm a coffee snob. I honestly don't know how it happened. It crept up on me slowly. I used to be a dedicated tea connoisseur. It probably started my first year out of grad school when I worked in Geneva, Switzerland. Lunches in Switzerland are always followed by an espresso with a piece of chocolate. Then came years in the Middle East were the rich dense texture of Arabic coffee very slowly grew on me. Visiting the now abandoned Yemeni port town of Mocha on the Red Sea where coffee beans were first imported from Africa into the western world raised my interest in the history of coffee.

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I learned to enjoy coffee for its taste, and not for its caffeine content. Although, admittedly, the occasional times I've decided to take a break from coffee, I do end up with withdrawal headaches. One day a few years back I went into my neighborhood cafe and asked for an espresso. The barrista looked at me and said, "Now? At two in the afternoon?!" That's actually the perfect time as Italians will tell you - no cappuccino after 10am, and no espresso until after noon!

So my contribution towards fasting this Ramadan is to go without brewed coffee. It does feel like I'm missing something. My mornings don't get started quite so smoothly. But I just can't break down to open that jar of instant coffee.