Then I sit, I have to be seated because I feel that drinking while standing it’s a waste of good coffee, I can’t quite explain it but it is not fulfilling when it’s drank like that.
I really enjoy choosing a cup, it has to be an interesting cup, not pretty, I mean, yes but it is not essential, it just has to provide some kind of feeling, a vintage feeling, an old feeling, a nostalgic feeling, a contemporary feeling.
Here in my country house we have a lot of different cups:
The white ones with green dots (not really white, now they are more like yellowish, time doesn’t always heal). Most of them have a crack somewhere. They give me a nostalgic feeling, strange is I’m remembering a life I never had, the life of my father and his siblings while they were children. All I know comes from silly anecdotes and family friends’ stories.
The white tall ones that have very thick clay body. They make me feel cosy and rustic, they remind me of tavern hot chocolate mugs in cold winter, the thick body of the cup allows me to grab it with both hands. I love to curl on the sofa like a child and grabbing it close to my mouth as I take small sips while watching something on tv, preferably with rain and thunder outside.
The thin rounded yellow ones with a children’s book illustration on them. My least favorite, what I like more about them is their interior. They have a smaller base so when I make my coffee in them it always looks more than on the other mugs because the same quantity reaches a taller point. They are the best to be microwaved.
The colored low tea cups. I don’t like tea so every tea cup is a coffee cup for me. They are very bright and colorful, look brand new and make me feel chic and french, they are the most suited to be sided with buttered toasts, it is a typical full breakfast cup!
I don’t like drinking coffee in glass except café au lait in tall tube glasses. Nor in plastic cups, I consider it pure murder!How can one little kitchen utensil provide such exquisite pleasure?
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