Like many sensible individuals, I’m a coffee enthusiast and, yes, a bit of a coffee snob too. Go ahead and roll your eyes or giggle at my expense. Enjoy your colorful frappuccinos while I savor my meticulously brewed cup of a premium African coffee, delighting in its rich aroma reminiscent of exotic lands.
Now, before you throw your coffee sleeve at me, let me clarify: being a coffee snob doesn’t make me an expert, nor do I pass judgment on other people’s choices. My coffee journey began with a basic Mr. Coffee machine brewing generic Folgers every morning at 6:30 a.m. My mom needed that strong black coffee to start her day, and when I took a sip, it felt like I was downing battery acid mixed with sweaty socks. I couldn’t fathom why anyone would willingly endure that.
It wasn’t until my mid-20s, after a rough night out, that I finally had a full cup of coffee. A colleague handed me a chipped mug and directed me to the coffee maker. That first sip was jarring, but it jolted me awake and kept me energized for hours. After a few months of drinking whatever was available, my taste buds rebelled. If I was going to indulge daily, I might as well enjoy the good stuff. Thus, my obsession with quality coffee began.
I don’t own fancy brewing gadgets or subscribe to coffee publications, but I do care about where my beans come from and how they’re roasted. There have been times when I’ve adopted a faux Italian accent to describe a brew as “aromatic with a hint of cherry wood.” (Just kidding about the accent part—but not about the love for coffee!) A truly excellent cup lifts my spirits and makes me feel unstoppable, and if that makes me a snob, then so be it. Curious if you share this passion? If you find yourself resonating with this list, welcome to the club:
- I Refuse to Settle for Mediocre Coffee. Even in desperate moments, I won’t drink subpar coffee. At home, I’ll patiently wait for the perfect brew (see point 2).
- Coffee Brewing is a Sacred Ritual. I’m an AeroPress devotee, which means I go through a meticulous process of boiling water, measuring grounds, and waiting for the drip. I always use one of my cherished mugs, and I add just the right amount of sugar and milk (a true coffee snob wouldn’t add anything, though). Those few minutes of sipping my coffee are pure bliss. (Disclaimer: My partner usually makes my coffee, which somehow makes it even better.)
- I Seek Out Destination Cafes. I will gladly travel to find a café that serves exceptional coffee. It’s a joy to connect with a barista who remembers my order and shares my love for a great brew.
- I Speak the Coffee Lingo. I know the nuances between a latte and a cappuccino, and I understand that the crema on espresso isn’t related to cream. That said, I can still appreciate a well-brewed cup of simple coffee—just not Folgers.
- I Avoid Ground Coffee. Ground coffee loses its freshness quickly, and I prefer my beans to be freshly ground. I usually ask the barista to grind just enough for a few days. Many grocery stores offer grinders, making it easy to get fresh beans.
- I Have Respect for Starbucks. While I’ve moved beyond the chain, I owe my coffee awakening to the green mermaid. The year I became a coffee lover coincided with a Starbucks opening in my neighborhood, and it was a game-changer. Anyone who claims not to enjoy a Pumpkin Spice Latte or a White Peppermint Mocha is just being disingenuous.
So yes, I embrace my identity as a coffee snob. If you relate to any of this, you’re not alone. For more insights into home insemination, check out our related post here. And if you’re interested in boosting fertility, you can explore this resource, which offers valuable information. For excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination, visit this site.
In summary, if you find joy in the nuances of coffee, prefer quality over quantity, and have a few rituals of your own, you might just be a coffee snob.