As I was making coffee this morning at work, I was exclaiming to a colleague how much I love coffee – It’s a lot. We were discussing how all coffee is good, even bad coffee is better than no coffee at all, and I was reminded of the worst cup of coffee I had ever tasted.
The worst cup of coffee ever:
A few years ago, when I was living up in Northwestern Ontario, I was driving between my then home, Fort Frances, and the small city of Kenora (even further to the north). I stopped at a small roadside community along the highway for a cup of coffee for the road. I won’t say which community, but there are not that many. I went into their only store and came out with some snacks and a cup of coffee.
Unfortunately, I didn’t take a sip until I was on the road again – it was awful.
So awful that I put it in my cupholder and didn’t even absentmindedly attempt to drink from it for the remainder of the trip.
It tasted like someone had made coffee a week earlier, then the grinds had gone mouldy, and they brewed another pot with them. Then two days later I came along.
Either that or they ran out of coffee and just used dirt.
Now for a very different story.
The best cup of coffee ever:
As an undergraduate student in archaeology, I spent the summer between my 3rd and 4th year in Jordan. On the way there, six friends and I made a side trip to Egypt. Our return flights to Cairo were an add-on to our main flights to Jordan and were with Royal Jordanian Airlines.
The flight from Amman, Jordan to Cairo, Egypt is a short flight, but they still fed us lunch; part of that lunch was the most heaven-like, velvety coffee I have ever tasted.
Only myself and one other in my group, Susie, had the coffee, and we spent the next week and a half reliving that coffee. Telling the others about it, and dreaming of the return flight to Amman when we would once again get to taste the most perfect cup of coffee in the world.
Sadly, when the return coffee was finally acquired – seven cups, one for each of us…
It was not the same!
We were so disappointed! The best we can figure is that someone important had been on that first flight, and they had brought out the good stuff. That or the attendants on this second flight did not have the magic touch of the first.
So, the story of the best coffee ever ends on a sad note; I will likely never taste that coffee again…
But I can still hope that one day we will cross paths.