10.30 Coffee Time, A Very Simple Pleasure

When my dad reached his three score years and ten he must have decided that he might not have many years left, and wrote an essay on the things that gave him pleasure in life.  I can’t remember all the details but I do know I wasn’t really surprised by any of his choices.  Family, food, coffee, maths, chess, books, nature, cars, crosswords, and - the word I skimmed past very quickly - sex.  

My dad loved food - any food.  Although my mum tried to keep him under control he could frequently be found in the kitchen eating chunks of cheese on thickly buttered bread (Camembert a particular favourite - the smellier the better) As my mum had no sense of smell it was left to the rest of us to complain loudly as we entered the house and were confronted by a strong cheesy stench.  Eventually, the Camembert was double wrapped in foil and clingfilm and banished to the lean-to. 

As it happened, my dad had another twenty three years to enjoy those simple pleasures, and enjoy them he did. Every night at 9 o’clock my mum and dad would each have a Cornetto.  If I was staying, and refused one, he would tell me how delicious it was.  Boxes of chocolates couldn’t be left out if dad was in the room.  He had been diagnosed as diabetic, but never took it as seriously as he should have.  Biscuits and cakes disappeared mysteriously with nobody knowing a thing about it. Looking back, I wish I hadn’t nagged him when I was there.  I was concerned for his health, but maybe he’d got it right: his enjoyment outweighed any risk. 

Seafood and, in particular, lobsters, became a firm favourite.  He found that Lidl sold them and asked for a constant supply, panicking if he ran out.  I can still see him with a knife and hammer, cracking the shells, his mouth watering at the prospect of the meal ahead.  Although lobsters were a bit of an extravagance, not all his simple pleasures were expensive.  Most cost nothing at all.  Trips to the library were frequent and regular.  He enjoyed a wide range of genres, from whodunnits and biographies to intellectual books on philosophy and religion.  

My dad was a life long learner, who had missed out on a university education due to his family's lack of finances, and his father's desire to have his son join him in his one man optical business.  Dad would have been an ideal university student, but sadly it wasn’t to be.  Instead, he continued to educate himself, enrolling for Open University courses and thriving on discussion and debate. Most subjects interested him, but particularly philosophy, religion (he was an atheist), and maths.  He would sit at the computer for hours, reading and composing emails to his fellow students.  I think this was dad’s way of validating himself.  He would never admit it but I’m sure his lack of university education was a huge regret to him, especially as his best friend, my mum’s brother, John, was sent off to get his degree (my grandma working three jobs to pay for it) and then follow it with lecturing for many years at Kings College London.

Although I am no intellectual, I can relate to many of dad’s simple pleasures.  I love reading, and guess that came from growing up in a houseful of books, with both parents being avid readers. Food goes without saying, and I also love to learn - but not such intensive and deep subjects as those that consumed my dad.  One thing we had in common was a morning coffee.  It’s not just the drinking of it, it’s the whole ritual of boiling the kettle, heating the cafetière, grinding the beans, making the coffee, heating the milk…….It’s a very special pleasure, and one that I still love.  As the smell of the coffee hits me I think of my dad.

The night before Spamhead suddenly died (yes, that was his nickname for obvious food related reasons), my brother phoned to speak to my mum.  In the background dad called out proudly, “I finished the Telegraph crossword by 10 this morning, and I’m just cooking sausages!”  That summed him up in one sentence. It makes me very happy to think he was still enjoying his simple pleasures right up to the end.

10.30 Coffee Time

Scoop beans

Rich and black

With oily sheen

Pour into hopper

Grind fine 

Savour smell

Freshly ground Continental 

Two large spoons full 

Into heated cafetière

Water boiled

Wait a second

Tip kettle

Gently pour 

Into pot

Stare dreamily 

Through rising steam 

Sniff in sniff in 

Full force of brewing coffee

Lid on

Careful, don’t plunge yet

Meanwhile

Choose favourite mug

Just for coffee 

Not for tea

Pour in milk 

Heat thirty seconds 

Dream of treat to come 

Five minutes

Time to plunge!  

Inhale smell

Coffee brewed

Pour slowly slowly 

Onto milk in mug

Watch as bubbles rise

Let cool for seconds

Before that first delicious sip...

10.30 Coffee Time 

Thanks for reading.......Jill