The Coffee of my Childhood ☕🥖

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(Edited)

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“ENGLISH"

Since I was very little I always remember the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the house. I was born and raised in my grandparents' home and from them I inherited not only the blood but also the taste for coffee.

Our house was humble, but with a great human warmth and a kindness and affection that could be felt in the atmosphere. That is why our house was always full of visitors who came to greet and say good morning. Also to receive the usual blessing of 2 elderly people who enjoyed doing all the good they had within their reach.

My grandmother would wake up with the rooster crowing and in the old stove she would heat the water to prepare that rich and remembered coffee of my childhood, with some roasted beans from the day before, the smell impregnated the whole place and the visitors would arrive and also enjoy that rich drink with the flavor of a home full of goodness.

That smell takes me to my childhood, where I ran through the greenery of the meadow, was free and carefree and my grandmother with that tenderness called me and served me at the table my coffee with whipped milk, accompanied by a buttered bread, which became my favorite breakfast to this day and which I can not do without even one day, who knows me can affirm it.

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My grandmother had a particularity and that was that she combined the sweet coffee with a minimum point of salt, to this day I have not seen anyone do it that way, only my aunt, who is her daughter does it, but those hands of my grandmother to prepare the morning coffee were unique.

Everyone at home had their own cup, which could not be shared, it was like a personal object and when it was filled with my grandmother's coffee and served at the humble table, everyone knew which one was theirs, sublime moments that I keep in my memory as treasured memories, that is why I love coffee, because in it there is history, experiences, nostalgia and feelings that take me back to my childhood.

Thank you for coming here my dear readers, see you another time.
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“DESPUES DE LA TORMENTA SIEMPRE SALE EL ARCOIRIS. ¡NUNCA TE RINDAS!”

Gracias por dedicar un tiempo para leer mi publicación, la escribí con mucho amor.

Thank you for taking the time to read my post, I wrote it a lot of love.

Me despido.

I bid you farewell.

Todo el contenido que se encuentra en esta publicación es de mi autoría, cualquier duda hacer mención a mi persona y con gusto les responderé @surglen.

All the content found in this publication is my authorship, if you have any questions, mention me and I will Gladys answer you @surglen.

Las Fotografías son de mi propiedad, excepto las citadas con su fuente.@surglen

Photographs are my property, except those cited with their source. @surglen.

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7 comments
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Coffee certainly is a nostalgic beverage. Nice story and memory of your grandmother.

I have heard of people adding a small amount of salt to reduce the bitterness of coffee.

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Ohhh really? I only saw that habit to my grandmother, it is more when you combine with the whipped milk and that touch of salt, the taste is like a coffee shop, maybe that's their secret. Thanks for visiting .

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Could be the secret. I'm not sure.

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Hello @surglen
I can relate to the freedom you had playing outdoors and the comforting intake of buttered bread, but for me with tea.
I still find the similarity, yet little differences in the culture of Jamaica and Venezuela fascinating.
Great memories of your grandmother that will live forever.

Said it was 96º in the shoe-4.jpg

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Thank you the best of my childhood and how nice to know that we share similarities and you feel identified with our customs. Jamaicans will always be received with love in this country...a giant hug.

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Muy bellas palabras @surglen tambien recuerdo el olor a cafe de las mañanas en la casa de mi abuela.
Para ese entonces, como niño, le colocaba mucho azucar, hoy en dia, disfruto mas de tomarlo sin azucar.
Gracias por compartirlo.
Saludos

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