Morning rituals
I was first introduced to the world of coffee via my beloved grandparents, Margie and Pop, who woke before dawn every single day and would have a pot of percolated coffee bubbling away on the stovetop no later than 6:00am. On special occasions, such as guests calling in or simply because they felt like it, they’d get another pot going mid-morning, and again sometime after lunch.
When I think of them, sipping coffee together on the front porch every day, I’m reminded of a quote from Johnny Cash, who when asked about his idea of paradise, responded – “This morning with her, having coffee.” He was of course referring to his beloved wife June.
Margie and Pop would buy their coffee beans from the supermarket, back when you could open up a foil bag and grind it yourself right there in the tea and coffee aisle. I always felt particularly important when Pop would let me do the honours. Pop is now 93, and while he’s never touched a drop of alcohol, coffee is still his number one vice. I have to wonder – could coffee be the answer to a long healthy life? Although he’s now quite partial to a barista-made flat white, Pop’s stovetop percolator rarely goes a day without use.
A slow burn love affair
If we fast-forward to my younger adult life, I started to become aware that more and more people seemed to be drinking coffee. At university, I’d meet friends ‘for coffee’ in the student lounge between classes, but I wasn’t inclined to order my own. I’d taken a couple of measly sips once or twice, but I’d decided it wasn’t for me, opting for other hot beverages like heavily-sweetened chai lattes instead. I’d decided that people who drank coffee must have been pretending to like it, and there was no way they were ever going to win me over.
At age 23, I had the opportunity to spend six months interning in New York City. My Dad accompanied me for the first two weeks, and on our first morning there, jet-lagged and hungry, we stumbled upon a small but popular midtown diner. It was called the Morning Star Cafe and to two first-time visitors to New York, it was everything. The menu was enormous, the servings were generous and the coffee was on tap. The owner, a short balding man who looked too old to still be working, would amble his way around the diner asking each table if they’d like ‘more cawfee?’, which could be taken straight up black, with creamer or half-and-half (whatever that was). While Dad greatly enjoyed the unlimited refills, I stuck to the tea or orange juice.
My internship in New York was my first real experience working in an office environment, and therefore my first taste of the daily rhythms of seasoned nine-to-fivers (or eight-to-seveners, as it were). As an intern, I was not immune to grunt jobs like having to fetch the coffee order for my superiors ahead of an important meeting – a job that stressed me out to no end. How could there possibly be so many different combinations of this addictive garbage water? But being young, impressionable and eager to fit in, the daily runs to Starbucks soon became part of my routine as well. I discovered that they’d make a soy latte on sweetened vanilla soy milk by default, and soon enough I wasn’t going a day without my sweet, hot cup of joy. God bless America and their penchant for sweetening almost everything.
The irony that I’d somehow become a coffee drinker as an Australian in America (and at Starbucks, no less) is not lost on me. Ask any Aussie you know who’s visited the States, and they’ll tell you just how hard it was to find a good cup of coffee. But back then, I really didn’t know the difference. Of course when I returned home, that’s when my eyes were truly opened to all that I’d been missing out on – the Australian way to drink coffee.
Aussie coffee on the global stage
It’s said that Australians were introduced to espresso style coffee by Italian migrants after World War Two. They came with their espresso machines in tow, and the European cafe culture was slowly, but surely embraced. Like most things that we Australians do, we had to put our own spin on it, and that came in the way of adding milk to our espresso. Like the way my Pop had always taken his percolated coffee, or the way that most Australians preferred a cup of tea – with a dash of milk. And while there’s still contention between Aussies and New Zealanders about where the flat white originated (can’t we just let them have the pavlova and be done with it?) – there’s no denying that the Australian way to drink coffee has become somewhat of a global phenomenon.
In a 2021 New York Times article, Emma Felton, a sociologist from the Queensland University of Technology said that because Australians are generally willing to experiment and mix-and-match with food, it made sense that we’d do the same with how we took our coffee.
“You look at countries like France or any European country and they’re much more hidebound. Their culture is much more rigid, so they don’t have as much experimentation, with their food in particular.”
“We don’t have to conform so much because we’re a nation of immigrants,” she said. “We really pick-and-grab from all over the world.”
In 2015, a few years after I’d returned home from my first stint living and working in America, Starbucks started selling the flat white. Around this time, a handful of ‘Australian style’ cafes also started popping up in New York and San Francisco, as well as across the pond in London. On a return trip to the US, a non-negotiable part of my itinerary was to hunt down a coffee from Blue Stone Lane, which had been set up in New York by a couple of Melburnians who were desperately missing the coffee they were accustomed to back home. They now own 12 locations across the United States, so it turns out that being a Melbourne coffee snob can be pretty lucrative.
Addiction or love?
I started to realise that my love for coffee was verging on an addiction when a core part of any international trip became ensuring I could find a decent latte. I’ve traipsed the streets of New York, San Fran, London and even Singapore for that elusive cup of goodness, and if you’re a friend of mine embarking on your own trip, be prepared to receive my detailed list of locations. I’ve even gone so far as to create an annotated Google Map of New York complete with my favourite coffee spots.
I’m in my mid-thirties now with two young children, and while other interests have come and gone (staying up later than 10pm, or drinking more than three glasses of wine on any given night, for example), my love of coffee has remained steadfast. While I wouldn’t call myself a snob, I have been known to take my coffee machine away with me on holidays. Okay, so maybe I am a snob, but did I mention that I have young kids?
We all know that coffee is addictive, but besides the obvious hit of caffeine and the (admittedly, not always immediate) love of the seemingly endless flavours that can be found within, what is it that so many Australians like me love about drinking coffee? I think most would agree that the taste and caffeine buzz is just one part of it, and the social aspect and daily ritual is something we Australians hold very close to our hearts.
It is believed that around 1.3 billion cups of coffee are sold in Australia every day.* But it’s worth noting that compared to other countries, our coffee drinking habits are actually pretty mild. In Finland, for example, most people drink at least four cups of coffee per day, and it’s not uncommon to have as many as eight. In fact, the Finnish have two legally mandated ten-minute coffee breaks enforced as part of their work days – something I’m sure we’d have no worries getting behind here in Australia.
Cafe culture
Unlike countries like the United States, Canada or even the UK, where most people get their caffeine fix from chain stores like Starbucks, Tim Hortons or Costa, we Australians are all about our small local cafes. Think about Newcastle, for example, and just how many small but vibrant local cafes we have spread across our city and outer suburbs. It’s rare to find a suburb that doesn’t have at least one local cafe, with some boasting multiple on the same street. One of my locals, Equium Social, is consistently busy – even at the crack of dawn. These cafes foster a sense of community, our shared love (or obsession) with our daily fix and a safe space to gather. It’s no wonder that commentators have gone so far as to liken our love of coffee to a religion.
But it’s not just the cafes that are multiplying. Coffee roasteries have increased in popularity in the last 10 years or so. In Newcastle alone, we have at least 15 small roasteries across the city – providing small batches of beans to our vibrant local scene, as well as cafes and households further afield. More and more coffee lovers are trying their hand at roasting, giving people like me access to the best of the best beans.
In addition to that, most households now own a barista-style coffee machine, making it incredibly easy for coffee drinkers to get their fix of the sweet brown elixir of life without having to leave the house. Ask any of your friends where they buy their coffee beans, and I’m sure they’ll provide a detailed analysis of all the different blends they’ve recently tried.
While we all know that when it comes to coffee, the argument for having too much of a good thing is pretty strong (hello heart palpitations), I’d like to put forward the case that the inherent Australian love of coffee is actually a good thing.
Simple pleasures
Since I first started dappling in Starbucks lattes, there have been countless occasions where drinking coffee has added a significant amount of joy to my life. From my time spent in America in my early-twenties, where those daily coffee runs gave me the confidence to bond with my new colleagues, to the highs and lows of motherhood, where regular mother’s group catch ups at cafes across Newcastle not only gave me some much-needed caffeine after endless wakeful nights, but solidified life-long friendships via a moment to breathe and feel human again.
More recently, as my family has battled a difficult health diagnosis for my son, the promise of a daily cup of coffee has often been our saving grace. A small glimmer, a chance to pause, and often, a much-needed excuse to leave the house and meet up with loved ones. Similarly, the act of receiving a coffee from someone who has been thinking about you in a moment of need cannot be beaten. And while I’m on the topic – if anyone reading this has the necessary sway or influence to instill a coffee delivery service to the children’s wards at John Hunter Hospital, you’ll be forever indebted to families like mine.
As a child, I didn’t understand why coffee was so important to my Pop that he couldn’t go a day without it. I didn’t realise that the ritual of getting a pot going on the stove before the sun had properly risen set him on the path for a good day ahead. Or that the quiet moments he shared over cups of coffee with his wife, Margie, would be something he’d later dearly miss following her passing.
Now as I sleepily fire up my coffee machine every morning (which is admittedly much noisier but more efficient than the percolator), I try to take a moment to pause and be thankful for what this ritual means to my own life. I like to picture myself at the ripe old age of 93 like Pop, getting just as excited for my daily morning brew as he has for so many years. I wonder what kind of space-age coffee machine I’ll be using when I’m in my 90s?
Despite the many conflicting opinions about the benefits or detriments of drinking coffee, I firmly believe Johnny Cash was on to something when he described his image of paradise – ‘Mornings with her, drinking coffee’. So here’s to more mornings (or the afternoons), drinking warm cups of coffee with the people we love.
*https://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/coffee-by-numbers-20060718-gdnzbj.html
