Once my son was diagnosed 18 months ago, we immediately had to learn the world of gluten free food. Shortly thereafter, I founded the Gluten Free Father blog where I started sharing our thoughts about gluten free products and how they tasted.

Just a short time ago, I decided to move away from a separate gluten free review blog as the readership here at EOT is large enough and diverse enough I now feel this is the right spot to share those reviews. Many of our readers have children with food allergies, Autism or other health issues that require a special diet. I hope they will find these reviews helpful and accretive to the great content here on the blog.

Although our family hasn’t gone completely gluten free along with my son, most of our family meals are GF and as such we really began to search for the best products available. Reviewing these products for manufacturers has been a great joy to my family and I. So this 4th of July we decided to wrap several products into a family barbecue and share with our readers here our reviews of those products.

For our barbecue, we settled on good, old fashioned American hamburgers and grilled chicken. We did so primarily because the folks at both Canyon Bakehouse and Five Star Meat Marinade sent us products to try and then share our thoughts with my readers.

First, Canyon Bakehouse is a artisan bakery in Loveland, Colorado, and has quickly garnered a strong following in the gluten free and Celiac community. In fact, Christi Skow, one of the owners of Canyon Bakehouse was herself diagnosed with Celiac Disease back in 2007 so the business is personal. And her story is a great example of how entrepreneurs are remaking the gluten free food industry for the better.

Canyon sent us some very tasty hamburger buns. Since my son is young, he sometimes will eat the hamburger without the bun. Especially since many gluten free hamburger bun options just don’t taste that great – even for a toddler with simple palate. Despite this, my son at the entire bun and really liked it. The rest of us also had our burgers on this delightful bun and were amazed at how much like “real” bread it tasted. There was no after taste and the light and air texture had the entire family ready to buy our next batch.

The buns were simply great and we highly recommend them to anyone looking for a gluten free hamburger bun that won’t have them missing regular bread.

Family Rating: 5 out of 5 Stars.

In addition to our hamburgers, we also grilled some fresh organic chicken breasts. Thanks to the folks at Five Star Meat Marinade, we were able to marinate the chicken in this flavorful marinade overnight and tossed it on the grill right next to the burgers.

The marinade is full of great flavors from what appears to be paprika to even citrus overtones. It’s also not only gluten free, but also low in sodium and sugar free. That means its great for just about everyone on a restricted diet of some sort.

We found it to be amazingly flavorful with just a hint of spice. The tastes were a bit strong for our young ones but my older kids and my wife both loved the flavor it brought to the chicken. You can also use the marinade on seafood, pork and beef, which is something we plan to do when we buy our next bottle. We’re grilling fanatics during the summer and the tasty flavor of this all-purpose marinade has earned its way into our permanent collection.

One note: despite Five Star Marinade being gluten free, you have to look hard to find that fact on their website and its nowhere on the bottle. Our friendly advice to the nice folks at Five Star is to add it to the label so folks know for sure. Other than that, this is a product we too can recommend to our readers and friends.

Family Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Stars

Lastly, although I was the only one who could enjoy our final gluten free barbecue review item, I did so with great pleasure. New Planet Gluten Free Beer is a fast rising star in the gluten free world with their tasty craft beers made with sorghum. The family owned business is producing what I believe to be the best gluten free beer in America. Dubbed “Old Style Beer for New Style Beer Drinkers,” New Planet not only produces great beer, but also is a good environmental citizen supporting renewable causes as well as running what would be considered a very green business.

New Planet sent a bottle of all three of their brews – Tread Lightly Ale, 3R Raspbery Ale, and Off Grid Pale Ale – for your brave correspondent to try. Not only could my kids not drink, by my wife, who is 7 months pregnant, could not enjoy these tasty beers. But I could and it was a great joy.

Starting first with the Tread Lightly Ale, I found its citrus tones highly enjoyable and even tastier than a Blue Moon standard Belgian White beer. In fact, I preferred the taste of the Tread Lightly Ale over most beers I drink on a regular basis. The taste was full and the boquet quite aromatic. If you like those beers and now find yourself on a gluten free diet, you’ll be amazed by its taste. Even if you aren’t gluten free and are a beer coniseur, I highly recommend that you try it.

Next I tried the 3R Raspberry Ale. Although I love citrus undertones in a beer, I am not a fan of stronger fruit tastes like raspberry or even apple. Yet despite that fact, the 3R Raspberry surprised me in a good way. Instead of strong fruity flavors, the special puree used by New Planet creates a beautiful body color with a natural raspberry flavor that isn’t too strong nor too sweet. They won be over and I’d definately try it again.

Last, I sampled New Planet’s full-bodied ale, Off Grid Ale. This is the closest beer I have ever tasted to a traditional craft pale ale. I happen to be a big pale ale drinker so I was especially patient and focused on drinking this one. It did not disappoint. It was hard to tell the difference between it and other craft pale ales (like Boulevard) I usually drink. The brown rice extract, molasses, tapioca, and spiciness are mixed to perfection. New Planet should be extremely proud of all their beers yet to me this takes the crown as their best.

Again, New Planet is hands down the best gluten free beer available today. It puts others like Redbridge, Bards Tale, New Grist, and Green’s to shame. If you’re GF and you’re looking for the best beer available in America, look no further than New Planet Beer.

Family Rating: 5 out of 5 Stars.

So that’s it. A great gluten free holidays spent with my family and some great gluten free food products. Just because you have to be gluten free doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy great times, great food, and great beer.

Next time I’ll review some tasty gluten free desserts from Ethel’s Edibles. Be sure to read if it will satisfy your gluten free sweet tooth.

Until next time remember: gluten free doesn’t mean taste free.

I can haz your catz fur in mah fud? (Alternate title: Not exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to eat pussy.)

As a card carrying member of the Man Club, there are very few foods I wouldn’t stuff my face with – especially after having a few drinks. Day old burritos? No problem. Week-old General Tsao’s chicken? Just pick off the hardened rice and we’re good to go. Half-brown pears? Why not, they’re just as juicy and I don’t have to work as hard to eat ‘em.

At one point I noticed something, though. A co-worker and avid cat lover admitted that she let her cat sleep in her sink, on the counters and occasionally in a bowl. Yes, her cat’s filthy paws, that had just been in a litter box, were now in the place where the cookies for the company outing were prepared. A charming woman, I made a point to ask which dish she brought to pot lucks and never touch it.

I used to think this was odd behavior. I mean, she loves her cat so much and seems like a generally clean person (sans the cat hairs on the back of her favorite black sweater) and I’m such a snob that I won’t even give something she made a chance?

Flash forward several years and as the Dad of the house I’m essentially the garbage disposal, who’s responsible for every leftover, “there’s only one left – anyone want it?” and essentially crumbs of anything sweet that may be purchased and sit at the house while I’m gone at work. As a scavenger you learn to improvise and make due; Hot dogs on a piece of wheat bread? Why not. Mac and cheese, baked beans and broccoli in one bowl? Eat up. Half a burger? Gone. I used to plow through this stuff like I was prepping for one of many of Joey Chestnut’s titles.

That was my life until recently. I noticed the belt needed an extra notch, those “slim fit” pants were revealing male camel toe and my side profile looked like my father. I started watching what I ate and trying to get in some exercise and alas, my clothes started to fit again. I still felt sluggish, so I started re-examining what I ate.

Now, because of my job over the years I’ve been exposed to a lot of truths that get spun into “new” truths. Such as: Ethanol is a good thing. We need this bill to pass to “save jobs”. And High Fructose Corn Syrup is OK for you. Using my best judgement, I’ve usually been on the right side of these issues. When I would volunteer to hit the grocery store, I would always avoid products with high fructose corn syrup because I knew it wasn’t natural, your body can’t process it properly and there’s no way in hell I’m going to have my boys grow up with boobs.

My wife and I recently rented “King Corn” and, while it took us several months to finally watch it, showed us the exact reason why my instincts were right – high fructose corn syrup, while a cheap sugar substitute, is basically poison. I had no idea the depth to which corn was produced to support live stock and numerous industries, so that part was quite shocking to me.

A few days later I cued up “Food, Inc.” on Netflix. As some material was redundant with “King Corn”, this documentary went through the systematic dismantling of the family farm and how the government ordered the production and subsidation of the corn industry. Family farmer are either forced to sell to multinational chemical, err, biotech, err, “food”, companies, and those that stay in business are aligned with one of four major food producers, buried in debt to meet their standards, and are producing “food” that is poisoning our bodies daily.

Step right up and reach into a cow's stomach and pull out your own corn bi-product! Yee-haw!

Both documentaries go through the basic, simple notion that cows used to be grass fed and graze but are now confined to lightless, fecal-filled sardine cans and kept alive through the use of hormones and antibiotics. Their bodies, like every other animal (including humans), can’t take living on corn full-time.

It goes a long way to explain why so many Americans are, much like the cows, chickens and pigs in both movies, suffering from heart burn, acid reflux and ulcers. Your body, and in particular your stomach, is fundamentally breaking down and can’t handle that much corn. It also explains the obesity epidemic in this country and how, like most problems, when the government and business get into bed together it’s never the “consumer” that wins.

Times, They Are A Changin’

We used to shop at the local farmer’s market, grow a small garden and pick up organic food when possible. You better believe that we’ve made the switch full time. We’re even looking into buying in on a farm as a co-op in order to guarantee fresh, sustainable vegetables, fruits and meat.  One of the big arguments people have is cost. The prices actually aren’t much different from what you’d pay elsewhere and as “Food, Inc” points out, organic brands that support sustainable farming like Stoneyfield Farms are even being carried in Wal-Mart. Consumer demand is what drives this, folks, and the only way to break the cycle is to send a message with your wallet.

What’s crazy is that while we spend more on food and bring home slightly less, we’re finding that we’re not hungry all the time like we were before. I’ve lost weight and so has my wife, and it’s not because we’re wasting away due to starvation. It’s because unlike high fructose corn syrup’s empty calories our bodies are able to register when we’re full. The other piece that is huge is that I know my kids aren’t eating Frankenfood and I’m hoping my middle son will have a chance at outgrowing the numerous food allergies he’s had. You can help break the cycle for your kids at school as well by signing a petition for schools to provide healthy lunches here.

To top things off, I can’t walk down the streets of New York without thinking about how many restaurants and delis I pass that are charging an arm and a leg for serving processed foods and non-organic crap. Yes, I used to sneer at food made by cat people — but now I feel like unless I know the source I have to do it to everyone.

Case in point: my two-year old son Michael.

Michael is perhaps the most affectionate and outgoing toddler I have ever encountered. Yes, I know you may think I am biased, since he came from these loins, but it’s just fact. The kid can talk to anyone and carry on a conversation for an hour even if the adult can’t understand everything coming out of his mouth. A two-year old’s developing brain doesn’t allow for perfect speech yet but that doesn’t deter Michael from spewing sentence upon sentence on unsuspecting strangers. The kid loves to share everything including his thoughts.

He also has found something new to share over the past few weeks. It’s something he often likes to share with his brothers and sister: his boogers.

We’re not sure how it started or why he’s gravitated toward picking his nose and wanting to share its gooey output with members of our family. We just know it’s the “in” thing for him right now. Toddlers are weird that way. They get fixated on things sometimes that make no sense or have no rhyme or reason to them. None of my other two older kids ever had a booger thing. They never wanted to pick their nose, eat it or share it. They just left the mucus alone.

Michael is his own boy. He’s a strong-willed kid (I blame that on being half Cuban) who has no problem forging his own path, even at this early age. He’s been through a lot the past year for a young child and I like to think God gave him this personality because he knew he’d have to be a fighter.

All that said, I don’t know what his fascination with these green, crusty droppings is. It’s bad enough having to tell your son to stop picking his nose. Hey, he’s two and when there’s something blocking his airway, the kid just sticks his digit up there and removes it. That makes sense – social graces be damned.

His Mom and I are perfectly comfortable continuing to tell him to leave his nose alone, knowing this whole booger fad will soon fade the way of other short-lived fixations. The only problem is, the problem escalated this past weekend. He’s now moved into a serious and dreaded place in the annals of Boogerdom: he’s now a booger eater.

It’s hard for me to air that in public but I must to help others who share our dismay. Little Michael has discovered these green meanies are a tasty – if not salty – treat. We’ve caught him a few times and prevented it. But this past Saturday, he was up to his mucus munching habit again. This time, he even said to my 12-year old: “Want a boogie? It tastes good.”

Besides his sister almost fainting, especially since he was chasing her around the house with the booger on the end of his finger, the rest of us had to laugh. Yes, it’s disgusting. But for those of us of the male persuasion, it’s hysterical. Even my wife had to laugh at the sheer brilliance of a two-year old taunting his much older sister with a booger on the end of his finger. That’s just pure, unabridged male hazing brilliance.

What can we say? Boys like boogers and my young son gets it from an early age. I know it won’t last much longer but while it does, I am going to relish the disgusting activity. We’ll continue to teach him the proper way of disposing of such nastiness at the same time or he may never have a date in high school.

Until then, I’ll keep laughing at my little booger-picker. I’m just happy he’s all-boy.

Follow Scott on Twitter @sdgully or email him at scott@everyotherthursday.com. His personal blog, where he writes about public relations and social media, is www.scottgulbransen.com. Scott also contributes the the Shamable Blog and is known as the Gluten Free Father and reviews GF food.

You see, I’m a guys guy. I have one brother and enjoy thinks like football, beer and meat. I don’t do dolls. I don’t do dress up. I don’t do let’s put make-up on daddy’s face.

What I do, do, is bake — Easy Oven that is.

You see, I have two daughters (unlike some of the other EoTers). My house is always in the pink and not the blue. I’m convinced that our fish (when it was kicking) was female. With that being said, my girls have me wrapped around their finger — big time. So when it comes to hook my oldest up with her Easy Bake oven, daddy had to go find the right light bulb.

Being the eco-mind that I am (not), I only had those green friendly bulbs in the house. Now, as any chick who has done the Easy Bake Oven thing will tell you, a certain bulb is needed.

I searched high and low for the damn thing with no luck. Every store I went to — with the exception of Home Depot as I avoid that place like the plague, knowing it’ll cost me $100 EASY — didn’t have what I needed. However, mom came through with the right bulb, because afterall, she once was the proud owner of an Easy Bake Oven.

So last night’s project (since I’ve had a zillion of them since Christmas toys started to be opened), was the Easy Bake.

I found the entire process pretty interesting. Now, I’m sure that the cake batter is made with some nuclear, spongy type subsctance that’ll give me cancer in 20 years, but it did the trick. We slapped that bad boy in the light nuked tray and in 15 minutes, out came a mini cake.

The girls were trilled. I got a big hug and kiss.

The cake sucked, but hey, to me, I consider this a win.

It’s high time for a tribute to the staple of white trash living: Old Milwuakee Beer.

Nectar of the white trash gods

According to the official website of Old Milwaukee, Old Milwaukee is about living life to it’s fullest. Whether you are listening to your favorite tunes, taking in a race at the speedway, or enjoying the crisp mountain air, it’s about getting the most out of every moment and being able to honestly say “It Doesn’t Get Any Better Than This.”

I can buy the first two. For example, when you are sitting outside your trailer with the Toby Keith cranked up on the boom box, and your cousin Bobby Ray is using the propane tank as a drumset – that’s the time for the OM (common trailer park name for Old Milwaukee.)

You’re at the speedway and you’ve removed your shirt to reveal a beer belly the size of a small bear and you’re sporting the classic mesh trucker hat with torn jean shorts. You’re shouting at the top of your lungs for a crash, but as drunk as you are you don’t notice that not only are you urinating on yourself – but you’re actually yelling at the bottom of your seat because you are lying in a puddle of vomit and spilled beer – that’s the time for the OM.

But enjoying the crisp mountain air? Isn’t that Coors? When I think of the customer base for Old Milwaukee, I think of the guys I see on the way home hanging out in front of the junkyard in the back of their pickup trucks drinking beer and making dirty gestures with muffler parts. I can’t see some yuppie bastard sitting on his back porch in Aspen toasting an Old Milwaukee with his little woman, sitting next to him in their wicker chairs from Pier One. Yes, I realize that crisp mountain air could be referring to the air possibly in the mountains other than at a ski resort, but that’s what I think of when an advertisment says crisp mountain air. I don’t think of the Ozarks, I think of the Rocky Mountain air. I’m not through nitpicking their slogan.

What the hell do they mean “it doesn’t get any better than this?” Of course it gets better than this – Old Milwaukee is at the bottom of the beer food chain. I mean, it’s like three bucks a six pack – that is why it’s the white trash beer of choice. So I suppose, in retrospect – maybe it really doesn’t get any better than that for a lot of people. Maybe the OM really is as good as it gets. I’m inspired. I think it’s time for a beer themed ode.

Ode to Old Milwaukee

When my thirst becomes too much to bear,
I’m drinking the OM
When my sister gets laid at the fair,
I’m drinking the OM
When I’m working down on the farm,
I’m drinking the OM
When my cousin Jeb lost his arm,
I’m drinking the OM
And driving the trawler.

When the cops come to pick me up,
I’m drinking the OM
When the cops chase me down the street,
I’m drinking the OM
When the cops cuff my arms to my feet,
I’m drinking the OM
When the cops celebrate bringing me down,
They’re drinking my OM
And nailing my wife
And nailing my sister
And nailing my wife’s cousin & sister
In fact, one of the cops is my one armed son of a bitch cousin Jeb
But when I get out of lock-up
I’ll be drinking the OM.

Now let’s look the history of Old Milwaukee. According to their website, they were started in 1955 and marketed to the American public as the first ‘popular beer.’ Back then six-packs must have been no more than fifty cents, so it’s no wonder it was so freaking popular. If my memory serves me right (which it rarely does) Old Milwaukee was brewed by Schlitz for many many years. I think it is brewed by Pabst now, though I’m not really sure – nor does it really matter.
Old Milwaukee is a staple of the American way of life. It represents the working man, as well as the ‘I can’t seem to hold down at job at the railroad man.’ Old Milwaukee strives to remind us each and every day that “it doesn’t get any better than this.” That’s right people – if you’re sitting on the roof of your trailer – look around you – it’s not going to get any better so don’t even try!

Here goes:

• Gross amounts of food that requires a transition to sweatpants after the third sitting
• Wall to wall, uninterrupted, sports
• Left-overs
• Kids that can occupy themselves
• Wives, mother-in-laws, step-mothers, aunts, girlfriends, sisters and step-sisters that slave in the kitchen and clean up after us.
• Wives, mother-in-laws, step-mothers, aunts, girlfriends, sisters and step-sisters that keep themselves occupied because honestly, we don’t care about the chit chatter. We want to eat, watch sports, take a nap and eat some more.
• Did I mention left overs?
• Being around other guys so you’re protected by the pack, i.e. your wife/girlfriend can’t jump down your throat for having a third plate of food or drinking a cooler full of beer because all the other guys are doing the same thing.
• Deep fried anything — turkey, of course, but anything that’s deep fried is for the win!
• Minimal travel time because it equals to less cranky kids, more food and sports time with the guys.
• Oh, did I mention left overs?
• WARNING ITEM — For the most gender slanted holiday on the planet, i.e. men eat all day and watch sports while women cook and clean. Now, I know it’s not the 1950s any more, but for guys like me who grew up in a society where men are expected to pull their weight around the house (which is fine with me), this is as close to “old school” as we’ll ever get. Enjoy it because you know it’s not going to last and that you’ll be paying for your over indulgence, butt scratching, burping, beer-drinking behavior for 364 more days, until next Thanksgiving.
• And oh yea, left overs.

That is all gents. Enjoy your naps because a cold splash of reality hits you in the face the next day as you start to untangle those stupid Christmas lights.

(sighs)

Evidence that my strategy works:

The McRib: Worth cheating for!

This isn’t a chick site so a lot of crap about diets and watching your figure is not something you’re going to find here. That’s a good thing because we pretty much don’t want this blog dripping in estrogen or effeminate “feelings.” If you’re looking for that sort of stuff, may I suggest the Richard Simmons’ blog?

Anyway, I wanted to update our readers on my progress of trying to move from “fat-ass” to normal middle-aged guy in pretty good shape.  I’ve set out to lose 65 pounds by March 2010.  The reason? Short recap for your douche bags who haven’t been reading this site long: I was too fat, my doctor said I needed to lose weight and I was running out of clothes

Well, we’re six weeks in and I’ve already lost 37 pounds. That’s not a typo schmucks: 37-frickin’ pounds! It’s amazing what you can do when you stop eating ice cream, hamburgers and M&Ms.

Because I’ve had such great success (thanks in part to my doctor, who is supervising the weight loss), I have treated myself to some “bad” foods now and then. That included a hot dog and some nachos when I took my son to see the American League Division Series.

This past weekend was Halloween. Of course I was going to eat something I wasn’t supposed to. But, because I have this system down really well, I can grab something and jump right back on the program without any risk to losing my way. That’s what I did as I raided my kids Halloween bags for some heavenly banana Laffy Taffy and a couple of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.

As Sunday rolled around, I was back on my system. That means a protein shake (100 calories) and a banana to start my day. My son had an early fall baseball game so I was up and out to the game by 8am. The hunger thing is pretty much under control and my stomach continues to shrink so I don’t get too many cravings.

As my son finished up one of this best fall games, (he pitched a scoreless inning with three strikeouts and was 2-for-2 at the plate) I wanted to treat him to lunch for his efforts. His request: McDonald’s for a cheeseburger. That’s no big deal for this shrinking man, as I really don’t miss that stuff. I’d much rather have slices of pizza than anything at McDonald’s.

As we pulled into the driveway, some text on the top of the squawk box caught my eye. As it came into focus, I could make it out. It simply said:

“McRib is back!”

The Devil made me do it...really, its his fault!

Suddenly, I felt like it was 8 weeks ago. The words shook me, and like a heroin junkie looking to score in the Bronx, I had to have my processed pork parts rib sandwich. I had to have its sweet barbecue goodness despite the fact it could give me an instant heart attack. McRib was back and so was the old fast food eating, face-stuffing Scott.

Even as I started to order, I resisted but then the little devil on my shoulder screamed out to me.

“Scott, it’s only her for a limited time. They only bring McRib out once a year. You have to eat it or you’ll miss your opportunity.”

That little devil always makes sense. He was right; McRib is only back for a limited time and that meant I had to order it.

So I did.

Now, after the fact, I realized one very important point: the McRib kicks ass! The sandwich is pure heaven!

For all the reasons people find fast food disgusting, McRib just isn’t one of them. Sure it’s probably processed pork “lips and assholes” but it tastes good. Not only that, its only here for a limited time.

After my fast food orgy had come to a quick and sudden end, I settled down and went back to eating what I was supposed to keep losing – and keeping off – my weight. After all, gaining and losing weight isn’t a fast or one-time process. It’s a constant effort to do the right thing and strive for balance. I know that now and look forward to my new life with food.

But, my “nooner” with McRib was worth it. Our motel was the front seat of my car and the foreplay was opening its box. Did I feel guilty afterwards?

Heck no! Pass the napkins.

Tale of the Tape (As of Nov. 2)

Weight Loss So Far: 37 lbs

Pants Size: From 44 to 38

Inches Lost: 6”

This is one of Scott’s updates related to his original post about losing weight this fall. He’ll be updating everyone on his progress from time to time here on the Every Other Thursday blog.

Follow Scott on Twitter @prgully or email him at scott@everyotherthursday.com. His personal blog, where he writes about public relations and social media, is www.scottgulbransen.com. Just don’t bitch to him because he has a very strong pimp hand.

This was brought on by two phenomena. First was the opening of a new Dunkin’ Donuts near our house. Second was the fact that it was entirely too early to get dressed for a weekend day.

Problem: how to get doughnuts without getting dressed. Solution: Drive-thru.

I said to my son, Greg, “Want to go get some doughnuts?”

“I can’t.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I’m not dressed,” he said.

“So,” I said. An inquisitive look spread across his face. I could see the possibility of going outside in his pajamas working. I reached into the closet and grabbed our jackets and told him to put his shoes on. I was so flexible at this point, I didn’t care that he put them on the wrong feet.

Off we went to the local drive-thru and we got our doughnuts – a box of munchkins and a dozen regular ones – and I got my medium black.

When we came back home, we ate our doughnuts on the couch, in our pjs, and watched Saturday morning cartoons. A new weekend tradition was born, the pajama road trip. What could be better?

The author and his muse.

I first started drinking coffee when I was 17. I’m 37 now and unless a physician makes me quit I will be a coffee drinker for the rest of my life.

Not that there was ever any real question of my quitting coffee. The reasons for starting to drink coffee never entered my mind and only flippantly do I entertain the notion of quitting it in favor of green tea. After 20 years of coffee drinking I know exactly how I like it and exactly what I want from it and I see no reason to change.

I like it black and always have. I first started drinking coffee because I had the dim idea that it would be writerly to go to a diner and drink coffee and experiment with smoking, which is what me and my best friend did, skipping class on occasion to do so I’m sorry to say.

I’m not sure when I began to need coffee to function in the morning – must have been as a freshman in college, and in those days I drank coffee copiously and at any hour of the day, an excessive attitude somewhat typical of that age. The cigarettes, regretably, stayed with me, too. Cigarettes go with coffee like… well I don’t have the right simile here. Like a loaded sap to a noggin? Like a black t-shirt and jeans? Like jazz records on a rainy day?

Cigarettes is a topic best covered at another time but I spent a great deal of my 20s with them and my old pal coffee. It got us up, got us off to class, kept us company in the afternoon and evening, sheltered us through the shifts we worked as a waiter. I quit smoking when I was… hang on, I’m counting on my fingers – I guess I was 25. Crumpling up the Winstons produces drastic changes in your life and you have to rid yourself of old associations. I mean, you’ve now trained yourself that nothing goes with a coffee – or a beer, or work, or sex, or conversation – like a smoke, and you have to rid yourself of those connections. Some people quit other things that make them want to smoke. I went vegetarian for a while, started working out, learned to enjoy wine and scotch. I never thought of quitting coffee.

In fact, with my rediscovered senses of smell and taste, I began to enjoy coffee more than ever, and it was perhaps around then that I settled into patterns I’m still following today.

I like coffee in the morning. I like to drink frequent, small cups of black coffee. I’d rather drink several small cups that are hot all the way down – I mean steam still rolling off the empty cup – than one big coffee that gets cold before it’s finished. I like to drink coffee out of ceramic or paper, never metal or plastic. And I’ve come to realize that coffee should never, in my case, be sucked through a hole in a lid. If coffee is to go, it should be taken somewhere and the lid removed so that you can drink it as God meant you to. And we’re done with coffee by ten or eleven in the morning – usually 2-4 cups. In the afternoon we switch over to several small, hot cups of green tea.

Besides those simple rules, I’m not especially complicated in my love of coffee. I’ve begun to learn a bit about what roasting means, and how different roasters impact the taste of coffee, and I’ve developed an appreciation for the consistent roast, especially on the dark and full bodied side, which is my favorite flavor of coffee. And I’ll admit I like Starbucks but I’m equally partial to McDonald’s, a diner, the gas station, an independent coffee shop, or a mom ‘n pop bakery. Doesn’t matter where you get it, particularly, what matters to me is how I enjoy it. And boy, do I enjoy it.