Last night during our semi-regular AA meeting in the Castañedas’ driveway, Rob told us about his disgusting coffee habit. That is not to say coffee is disgusting. Coffee is liquid manna. But the way Rob drinks it is just vile: he brews a pot, drinks some, and then finishes the rest over the next few days. He re-heats it and adds a bunch of stuff each day.
Cristina suggested that he probably drank icky coffee in the military. Rob didn’t respond because he was too busy defending himself.
This morning as I sipped my fresh cup of energy, I thought about it again. What exactly is so disgusting about day-old coffee? I couldn’t figure it out on my own, so I consulted the omnipotent Google for some answers. Well, maybe not answers so much as opinions. Here’s what I found:
- Old coffee turns bitter (has something to do with the tannins it releases as it sits)
- If left out (unrefrigerated) coffee absorbs odors
- Old coffee goes stale. It won’t hurt you, but it will not taste good.
I was a little disappointed in these Google results. I thought for sure I’d find evidence that day-old coffee causes hangnails or genital warts. Stupid Google.
Whether old coffee should be tossed or not is debatable, but the general consensus is that old coffee is yucky, ‘specially if it’s got floaters.
My mom, who considers coffee a vehicle for French vanilla creamer, also does not care too much about how old her coffee is or how much water she has to add to it to dilute the coffee flavor. My mom is clearly cuckoo-for-cocoa-puffs.
And lest ye conclude that I am a coffee snob, I offer this story:
Victor and I used to buy fresh coffee beans and grind them each morning. They were a good brand (expensive) and we considered ourselves coffee snobs—not connoisseurs, just choosy. Eventually we started buying the beans already ground because it saved time in the mornings. And then we started buying store brand coffee—still (supposedly) better quality than Folgers, but cheaper than Seattle’s Best or Starbucks. We started feeling less snobbish. One day we decided to just try Folgers, and surprise, surprise: it tasted just fine, dammit. This was very distressing to both of us, because we had to consider ourselves the opposite of coffee snobs at that point. Now we drink pretty much anything, but I draw the line at old coffee. Sorry, Rob, but that’s just... it’s just bleah. I don’t know why. It just is.