I finally had it.

The one thing I had been ready to literally kill for over the past several weeks.

Does that make me an addict? Probably. But beyond caring. All that matters at this point is getting my fix of much-needed caffeine. Not that I was lacking any beforehand, since tea isn’t exactly caffeine-free.

But it just isn’t the same. What kind of weirdo wakes up in the morning and thinks “I’m still a big groggy, I might grab a cup of tea to wake up?” Yes, British people, but that just proves my point. It just doesn’t have the same kick. At least in my java-addled mind, tea just feels overly effete for the lifestyle I live. Which I suppose sounds odd coming from a grad-student studying history, but in my heart I’ve always thought of myself as more active.

Tea can be nice, and I don’t hate it, but when I think of mornings I think coffee. That heavy, heavenly scent permeating through the kitchen as you slowly pour water over fresh ground beans, with the sound of bacon sizzling in the frying pan adding to the atmosphere. Pouring a cup as you sit around a campfire in the early morning while in the woods, or sitting in a deer blind… it just can’t be beat.

It’s even in the name: coffee and caffeine share the same etymological root. You just can’t have caffeine without coffee. Well, technically you can but it’s the husk of the full flavor you get from a properly brewed cup of coffee.

So with this in mind, I headed for the kitchen. Totally just with this in mind. This wasn’t at all prompted by the awkward air that hung over the library between Mary and Elizabeth. Not at all. My thoughts were purely on coffee and coffee alone. Or so I told myself as I began to open the kitchen windows.

“What’s with the windows? You know it’s chilly outside this time of year.” Mary said. Rather than stay chatting with her niece she chose to follow me. And I mean follow as in, like, within three feet of me at all time. Almost like a needy child, or inversely an overprotective parent watching over a child.

“You’ll see. This is gonna put off a lot of smoke.” I replied as I fished through the cabinets.

I chose a deep cast-iron pan, lighting the stove and letting the pan pre-heat as I prepared a pan off to the side. Aaaand I almost forgot the most important part.

So time to go to the pantry. I could unload the beans from my bag here, but I really don’t want to drag that heavy burlap sack of raw coffee beans back to the pantry once I’m finished.

I poured the beans into the pan, making sure not to overfill. I just wanted the bottom of the pan to be covered, not filled to the brim. Choosing a whisk I began to steadily stir, with Mary looking over my shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you be entertaining Liz?” I asked. It seems rather rude to leave her niece all alone.

“She visits often enough that she’s fine alone here. And she should understand that observing my apprentice takes precedence over entertaining.”

“But I’m just cooking...”

“Cooking is part of magic!”

“Is it? You don’t even know what I’m cooking. And I clearly remember last time you had me mixing cooking with magic it was out of laziness when brewing.”

“There’s a lot of magic that can be done as part of cooking. I would even go as far to say it’s an important part of the magic as a witch! Uhm...by the way, are you going to be stirring that the whole time?”

“Yup. You can’t let it sit or it’ll burn in an instant. Coffee can be tricky like that.”

“And this smoke?”

“I told you it’d put off a lot of smoke.”

We stood in front of the stove for several minutes longer in silence, me stirring while Mary watched over my shoulder. Like, literally right up against me looking over my shoulder. When I finally asked why, she just said something along the lines of “needing to see things from my apprentices point of view.” and went back to watching. Finally, the coffee beans began to make a crackling noise.

“Is it supposed to be doing that?”

“That’s called ‘first crack.’ If I were to stop roasting the coffee once it’s done making this noise, that would make it a light roast! If I keep on roasting it long enough after this however, it’ll start making a different cracking noise, which would be ‘second crack.’ My personal preference it to roast it a bit after first crack and go for a medium roast which should be perfectly acceptable based on the region the sea captain said he got these from. I don’t know who introduced it there, but based on your coca plants and the rest of his cargo I can assume the region is analogous with South America, meaning the flavor profile should roughly match a Columbian or Peruvian bean...”

“Rose, shouldn’t you be watching what you’re doing?”

“Oh, shit...eh, they’re fine.” I poured the beans into a waiting baking pan, placing them on the window sill to cool.

“Actually, speaking of magic...” I muttered to myself, before gathering my energy to cast a spell. Energy shot out, gathering the chaff in the pan and sending it out the window.

“I don’t remember teaching you to use magic for such a frivolous reason.”

“...”

“What?”

“...”

“And you call me absentminded?”

“Could you two stop flirting?!” a voice cut in.

“L-liz? I told you to wait in library!” Mary yelled.

“I couldn’t ignore all the smoke! It was everywhere, and I wanted to make sure the house wasn’t burning down! What are you making anyway?”

“Coffee.” I replied. Liz grabbed a bean from the pan, examined it for a moment, and popped it into her mouth.

“Bleh!” Her face screwed up as she spit it out. “That’s bitter! And it gets stuck in your teeth.”

“That’s not how it works! Could you at least make yourself useful and put a kettle one rather than wasting my coffee beans?”

“Is there anything you need me to do?” Mary asked quietly?

“Do you have a Hippocratic sleeve? I really doubt you have coffee filters so that will have to do.”

“On it!” She said, rushing to one of the cabinets. Before grinding however, there’s a time-consuming step. After roasting, coffee needs to degas. You can drink freshly-roasted coffee, but it hasn’t had time to release a bunch of the CO2 and other bitter gases that result from the roasting process. It usually is best to drink a few days after roasting, after which it slowly begins to go down hill.

This is why you don’t want to store freshly roasted beans in plastic bags, and why coffee you buy at the stores has that valve thingy on the bags. Luckily, I learned all about cheating on time-consuming steps from my master, the forest witch Mary. One spell later and the beans should be pre-degassed. measured out about a small hand full of beans into a mortar and began to grind.

Goddess, I wish I had a burr grinder. I suppose I could always talk to a blacksmith about making one, but I should just count myself lucky I’m not stuck smashing beans with the butt of a rifle against a rock like some soldiers resorted to during the Civil War.

“Rose, the water’s boiling!” A voice rang out. “I have the sleeve.” Said another, as if they were competing.

I dumped the ground coffee into the sleeve Mary handed me, and set it up over a tea pot. I kind of wish I had something better suited for this but again, beggars cant be choosers. Taking the kettle, I slowly poured it over the grounds in a counter-clockwise motion.

When the pot was filled, I poured a tea-cup of the fragrant brown liquid. Not even offering to pour some for the two onlookers, I blew slightly on the coffee before cautiously taking a sip.

Bliss. Pure bliss.

Pouring their own cups, Mary and Elizabeth took sips of their own.

"You know," Liz finally said after a pause. "I guess it's not bad but I don't see what all the build-up was for."

I'm gonna fucking snap if she says one more word.