Scientists tell us that our sense of smell is the sense most closely related to memory. I have to say I agree. It only takes a whiff of freshly brewed coffee to transport me back to my childhood. Yes, my olfactory sense works better than H.G. Wells' time machine. One moment I am comfortably seated in mid-western suburbia; the next moment I am sitting in the kitchen of Grandmother Randel's house in Tampa, Florida.
Grandmother Randel, like most Southern Belles, was a marvelous cook, and an even better cook-supervisor. A steady supply of cheese grits, collard greens and fried chicken flowed out of the kitchen under her discerning eye, but when it came to coffee ? Grandmother reigned supreme.
I remember Grandmother fussing around her
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The memory has a name ? coffee milk. The feeling of anticipation that comes over me is the same as it was at Grandmother's house, but at this coffee shop and others that I visit, some things have changed; it's called Caffe Ole or Latte now. The cost has changed, too. A smile must be joined by nearly three dollars to receive your portion of nectar.
Here in my corner of Lola's I watch a steady stream of customers come through the door. The wood and set-in glass of that entry gives light and warmth to the interior. I wonder what sort of person leaves house and home to drive to Lola's and spend three dollars for coffee or tea? There are a lot of young people here, some that could be my children's ages. There are others here, too. Joining me in the middle-aged category is a quiet lady with a large paperback novel, Beneath the Raven's Moon; she looks like she has settled in and plans to stay for a while. And against the main wall there is a mustached man with an out-of-town newspaper laid open on his table. The news from that other small town must be riveting. I never see him look up from its pages.
In the corner nearest the entrance there is a comfortable grouping of furniture with sofas facing and a large chessboard between them. This is where a group of college-aged youth sits relaxed and laughing easily among themselves. The
The Drink of reason, coffee, seems to not have changed much culturally to this day, as when it is brought to the table over 250 years ago (pg. 170). Coffee remains to be the drink over which people meet
Honor the Grandmothers takes a look at four Dakota and Lakota women who offer to share the stories of their lives to the reader. It is a heartfelt look into their hardships through racism, to their ongoing battle to pass along the rich history of their ancestors while fighting poverty on the reservation.
Although there was the familiar, homey feeling of peace, there was also a sense of apprehension that would not go away. Muriel headed towards Sister Leta, the cook who was busy toasting homemade wheat bread and percolating the coffee. Muriel started serving coffee and toast to those who wanted it. There was no current information at this point about what had occurred, or to explain the light, yet there was growing concern. Even though there was coffee to be served, tables to be set up, and spoons and napkins to set out, the reporter side of Muriel came out, as she searched for anybody who might have information about what was going on. She loved to dig for information, and this was a night to dig.
Leading them to eat some delicious eggs that are sprinkled with the definite amount of salt and pepper. Later when the eggs are at their peak of almost ready then they add some soft, warm, and stringy cheese. Then to add some warm, crispy, honey flavored bacon. Along with all that they give you light browned toast with some light yellow butter melted faster than the sun and snow. The employees can hear them crunch into it and look and smile with satisfaction. They come frequently to check and see if you are doing good. If everything is tasting good, but everyone one knows that it’s a grand breakfast. There are vintage photographs placed around the wall of the shop, allowing coffee tasters to admire the photo-taking techniques, and memorizing their past. People like walking into this mini art museum and look at the pictures in this hushed environment. The dim lights on the nine foot ceiling were bright enough to shine on the chestnut colored furniture. Sofa, chairs and tables were all sorrel. While it combines with the green Starbucks logo. Although some whirring and sounds of coffee machine interrupted everyone timely, they still love this place so much when they ever feel
Ultimately, Drinking Coffee Elsewhere is a story of regret. At the end of the tale, Dina gives a heartfelt reminiscence of her college days, now long past, and the opportunities she missed and friendships she broke. One person in particular, Heidi, could have been a close and important friend. Instead, Dina’s harsh and unpleasant demeanor severed a deep connection. In fact, Dina’s quick and
All three of us were bored in July’s kitchen and after rummaging through the cabinets we found instant coffee. None of us have ever had a taste. We knew you could add milk or sugar, but drinking its original form seemed appropriate for our first taste.
My Grandmother goes by the name of babunya, and baba for short, this means grandma in Ukrainian. She lived in Ukraine for most of her life, and she is almost 90 years old now. She’s been through a lot in her years, thus her appearance has changed. For every wrinkle she has there’s a story to match. She has had every color hair: blonde, red, brown, and black. Now her hair is a short gray color. She keeps it short because it stays out of the way, even though she hates it short. She has always had long her until now. She has also progressively become shorter over the years due to a very bad back; she now stands just under five feet. Since she spends most of her days in the garden her usual outfit
My great-grandmother was raised by her mom, dad, and other relatives. She, and many cousins, were raised up as brother and sister in a close-knit family. Harriett Marshall, my great-grandmother, was born in Saltillo, Tennessee on January 7, 1931. She has lived through many trying times. It is a blessing to live through so many events that changed the nation, even the world. She has lived through the following events and many more: The Great Depression, World War II, the historic signing of Jackie Robinson, Brown v. Board of Education, the Civil Rights movement and many more.
The familiar smell of soft cookies and homemade cooking are common thoughts when people think about their grandma's house. Great feasts and family gatherings play a part in everyone's grandmother's home. But when I really think about my grandma's house only one word comes to my mind: fun.
Starbucks- New baristas go through a coffee tasting session of the store manager’s favorite coffee beverage. This in turn displays the manager’s passion for coffee, thus instilling it in the new
The simple bowl is deep cherry wood with a silver rimmed bottom that reflects my face upside down as a result of the polishing it has received over the years. The grain is worn, but still radiates the strength of the tree that it came from. As I run my finger over the inside of the cavernous salad bowl, it picks up some of the olive oil residue from the homemade Italian dressing that has seeped into every little grain of the bowl over years of use. Never subject to washings; we only wiped it out with a paper towel, to better flavor the crisp Boston bibb lettuce salads that it delivered at every family dinner. Just as the wood bowl, my grandmother was weathered and cracked by the trials of life. I could not be around her without leaving
I will tell you a tale of a woman of great success. This is a woman that has inspired me to be something great one day and to never give up trying. Though she may be growing into her elderly years she has lived a very challenging, joyful, loving and successful life. She is a woman of great faith and character, she is my grandmother.
At just over five feet tall, she was the kind of woman that you saw on the street and knew to move out of her way. Her demeanor was strict, her hands tied with thick blue veins, crisscrossing over her thin, frail fingers.
Imagine waking up Saturday morning. It’s a chilly day while the sun is barely rising and you’re tug in your bed in your favorite pajamas. You smell the aroma of coffee beans been prepared into your favorite coffee drink, Mocha, Frappuccino, Latte, Espresso, you name it, while you read a book or admire the person you’re with. Well, that small or large cup of coffee contains a great amount of history that you have never wondered or asked yourself like many of us. Most of us drink coffee for many reason, but not many know the history behind the discovery of coffee. It might not be in the interest of many, but having some knowledge of how coffee evolved in today’s society will give you a greater view of its early discovery and consumption. I drink coffee at least every morning to wake me up, but after reading, “The world in Six Glasses”, I learned more about the history and meaning behind coffee in the early years. Coffee is not just a typical drink it has a long history behind it and it shapes our culture in society. Throughout my speech, you’ll learn about the growth of coffee, how it was traded to America, and how coffee is view today in our culture.
My grandmother’s house has a very special place in my heart. As the family has gotten older and we have all had our own children we do not visit as we should. I visited with my grandmother many times when I was little. Her house always seemed to have something about it that set it apart from all the rest. As you walk into the back door of her house you would notice a long, narrow kitchen that led into the main living and dining room of her house. The smell of food home cooked food was quite evident. Grandmother cooked every day and always cooked big meals on holidays for the family.