For all of us that love good things, whether it be good art, food, or in this case - coffee. It stems from beg passionate or a certain memory.
I always knew about coffee. Coffee was something my dad drank every morning and took a huge carafe to work on cool mornings or when going fishing. It was something that my mother had to religiously drink at three pm every day. I didn't fully understand it as a very small child and didn't quite relate to very much. But as I grew up I would visit my great-grandparents in Louisiana. They lived in an old Victorian home that was filled with old things. It had one dark staircase leading to an upstairs room that always frightened me. An owl was always perched on the landing keeping guard of whatever was up there. My great grandmother married young, at the age of 14. But back then it wasn't uncommon. She was an amazing cook and we always had feast's during holidays and we called her Mama-Simms. She was a strong but gentle spirit and she was never at a loss for a good hug. In their house they didn't use their living room for watching television but had a small room (that was probably a bedroom once) in the back near the kitchen that had two recliners, a couch and some sitting space. We would always hang out there watching old Shirley temple or John Wayne movies. But then, 3 o'clock would roll in and we had to stop. Grab a Schwan's coffee cake out of the freezer, grab a cup of coffee, and put on The Days of our Lives. You couldn't have coffee without soap operas. For a while I didn't really drink any coffee but I just ate as much cake as I could get away with. But something changed in me after a couple of years. I was about to reach young adult-hood and maybe I thought that if drank that dark liquid that it would make me seem comparable or become wiser whatever the thought behind it was; in that moment, started a ritual in me.
I didn't evolve in my coffee knowledge at all during my high school years because all I really knew was St*rB*cks or Panera. I didn't know that coffee beans were found in these things called cherries or that a small coffee tree spout was called a little soldier. I didn't find out about those things until later on when I wanted a change from babysitting. My boss then recommended that I put in my resume at a coffee shop in OKC. They needed someone to make crepes on the weekend. Crepes were something that I had made a couple times with my husband Doren because he loves France but I didn't make them regularly. During my interview, even though I little experience with drink and food service I had pretty decent experience with customer service which is something that I love to do. I didn't know anything about coffee really but that didn't seem to concern them. It was a weird feeling walking out of that interview. I knew I had gotten the job before I had gotten it. So I quit my other job even though I hadn't received the phone call. I know that was a bit of a crazy move for my husband. I'm sure if he had done the same it would have freaked me out a little bit. But I had a feeling. Sure enough I got a call about a week and a half later asking me when I could come in for training.
When I came in that day we tried every coffee they roasted and in different methods. They told me to spit out the coffee so I wouldn't get sick from drinking so much but I didn't listen. I definitely felt awful afterwards. I started learning how to make a French Press and Pour-over and of course crepes. I didn't become a Barista until near the end of the summer and then they hired someone else to make crepes. From there on out I learned about the responsibilities that I would have to take on. It wasn't just about pulling a good shot every day. On top of that I realized soon that one of my shoulders always had a huge knot in it. I didn't how hard being a barista would be on my body but there was nothing else I would have rather been doing.
I always knew about coffee. Coffee was something my dad drank every morning and took a huge carafe to work on cool mornings or when going fishing. It was something that my mother had to religiously drink at three pm every day. I didn't fully understand it as a very small child and didn't quite relate to very much. But as I grew up I would visit my great-grandparents in Louisiana. They lived in an old Victorian home that was filled with old things. It had one dark staircase leading to an upstairs room that always frightened me. An owl was always perched on the landing keeping guard of whatever was up there. My great grandmother married young, at the age of 14. But back then it wasn't uncommon. She was an amazing cook and we always had feast's during holidays and we called her Mama-Simms. She was a strong but gentle spirit and she was never at a loss for a good hug. In their house they didn't use their living room for watching television but had a small room (that was probably a bedroom once) in the back near the kitchen that had two recliners, a couch and some sitting space. We would always hang out there watching old Shirley temple or John Wayne movies. But then, 3 o'clock would roll in and we had to stop. Grab a Schwan's coffee cake out of the freezer, grab a cup of coffee, and put on The Days of our Lives. You couldn't have coffee without soap operas. For a while I didn't really drink any coffee but I just ate as much cake as I could get away with. But something changed in me after a couple of years. I was about to reach young adult-hood and maybe I thought that if drank that dark liquid that it would make me seem comparable or become wiser whatever the thought behind it was; in that moment, started a ritual in me.
I didn't evolve in my coffee knowledge at all during my high school years because all I really knew was St*rB*cks or Panera. I didn't know that coffee beans were found in these things called cherries or that a small coffee tree spout was called a little soldier. I didn't find out about those things until later on when I wanted a change from babysitting. My boss then recommended that I put in my resume at a coffee shop in OKC. They needed someone to make crepes on the weekend. Crepes were something that I had made a couple times with my husband Doren because he loves France but I didn't make them regularly. During my interview, even though I little experience with drink and food service I had pretty decent experience with customer service which is something that I love to do. I didn't know anything about coffee really but that didn't seem to concern them. It was a weird feeling walking out of that interview. I knew I had gotten the job before I had gotten it. So I quit my other job even though I hadn't received the phone call. I know that was a bit of a crazy move for my husband. I'm sure if he had done the same it would have freaked me out a little bit. But I had a feeling. Sure enough I got a call about a week and a half later asking me when I could come in for training.
When I came in that day we tried every coffee they roasted and in different methods. They told me to spit out the coffee so I wouldn't get sick from drinking so much but I didn't listen. I definitely felt awful afterwards. I started learning how to make a French Press and Pour-over and of course crepes. I didn't become a Barista until near the end of the summer and then they hired someone else to make crepes. From there on out I learned about the responsibilities that I would have to take on. It wasn't just about pulling a good shot every day. On top of that I realized soon that one of my shoulders always had a huge knot in it. I didn't how hard being a barista would be on my body but there was nothing else I would have rather been doing.
But, sadly, I had to quit because my husband and I went to France for 5 months doing missions. For the last 10 days we were there I got to go to Paris. I absolutely loved it. We got to experience some amazing specialty coffee shops but only one that was really roasting. I just read not to long ago how much the specialty coffee world has spread over there and I can't wait to go back one day. I returned to the states to give birth to our now 1 year old daughter. A few months after I asked to be rehired at the cafe I had worked at and got the job again. I then went on the become the trainer. It was a weird time in my life. I felt behind on the coffee culture and I still felt my body adjusting to not growing another human being. It was definitely not the shop I left but I was not the same person either. I realized that I needed a change.
My husband and I started planning a trip to visit different states and coffee shops. For the past month we have done this, uprooting ourselves a little because we wanted to visit other cities in order to figure out if OKC was were we wanted to settle. We wanted to visit Cafe's that we had never been too. Gain some sort of inspiration. We haven't decided on anything just yet but I know we are one step closer.
My husband and I started planning a trip to visit different states and coffee shops. For the past month we have done this, uprooting ourselves a little because we wanted to visit other cities in order to figure out if OKC was were we wanted to settle. We wanted to visit Cafe's that we had never been too. Gain some sort of inspiration. We haven't decided on anything just yet but I know we are one step closer.