It was past midnight when I requested my wife who was watching Bollywood comedy Golmaal withBintu to make me a cup of tea. She hit the pause button and grumbling went into the kitchen and shouted, “Sorry, we’ve run out of Typhoo tea leaves. Will a cupof Nescafe coffee do instead?” “Well, anything, Nescafe or Folgers- so long as it is a hot beverage,” I replied.

 While she was makingcoffee, I entertained myself by listening to Meerabai’s pag ghunghroo bandh bhajan. After ten minutes, Bintu who was alsomad at me because Paresh Rawal was still on pause, entered my room and put amug of coffee on my table. “How come you get to drink coffee whereas I am forced to drink milk? It’s not fair, Dad? he said. I.

I took a sip-coffee was dark and more bitter than quinine! Iremembered Meerabai’s lines,zahar kapyala Ranaji ne bheja…I could have sung, coffee ka pyala Biwiji ne bheja, peevatPatidev…While they were laughing their heads off watching the antics in Golmaal, I sneaked into the kitchen to check out the coffee she had used. No wonder the coffee I tried was bitter-she had emptied the whole cachet(well past the expiry date) of coffee powder to brew one cup of coffee and over-boiled the coffee-and to make matters worse, forgotten to add enough milkand sugar!

I slowly opened the kitchen door and emptied the coffee in a flower-pot. No refills please! Then I opened the fridge and found a small piece of chocolate cake(no thanks to Bintu!). My wife makes delicious cakes but guards her recipes like The Coca-Cola Company.  Got the cake but where was the steaming, frothy coffee withhillocks of foam in a stainless steel tumbler!

Usually ahot cup of masala chai is my lifeline between waking and getting my brain cells working.  It restores my sense ofharmony. But occasionally I don’t mind trying a cup of coffee when I am away from home. Coffee that I was served at some airport lounges and on someairlines left a lot to be desired.  It reminded me of a testy comment made by Army General Cariappa to the airhostess,"Miss, if what you’ve given me is coffee, could I have some tea, please? But then if this is tea, I’d like some coffee."

In India,  youth is fast embracing coffee culture.  CaféCoffee Day and Barista and Qwiky’s  are becoming favorite haunts for collegians, yuppies and under 40s crowd  to chill out.

Last month, I took my neighbor Kantibhai’s in-laws from Nairobi  to Satrbucks after a shopping spree. It was like being on the floors of New York Stock Exchange!  The variety of coffee it serves is mind-boggling.  I couldn’t either spellor pronounce some of the exotic names of the coffees.  I volunteered to get the drinks. Little did I realize the challenge facing me!  Caffeinated or decaf? Small, medium or large.  Hot oriced? What is banana, coconut frappuccino, I asked.  ‘Well, a frappuccino is chocolate and frap concentrate blendedwith ice and topped with whipped cream’ man behind the counter rattled off. Andwhat is a latté, please.  Latte is anespresso shot or two, steamed milk and bit of foam at the top. Or you may liketo order a cappuccino which is like a latte but with lot of foam.  For me, understanding all these deep mysteriesof coffee offerings was more difficult than finding a cure for swine flu! Impatientcustomers behind me were getting irate-I had to run to Kantibhai to find outtheir preferences.  Shantaben opted fora frappuccino, Kantibhai ordered a medium decaf. Coffee with hazelnut flavor,sans milk or sugar. Black coffee in the morning and Black Label in the eveningworks fine for me”, he quipped.  Rambhaiwho had blood pressure settled for hot chocolate drink, and Kashiben who had  diabetes and was lactose intolerant asked fora soy latte with Sweet’ Low.I had small decaf with low fat 2% milk and brown sugar, stirred but notshaken.

The coffee saga had a pleasant ending. A family friend, Mrs.Laxmi, from Kerala,  had come to Atlantato attend a Maths.Conference.  At dawn,I was still in bed when rich aroma of roasted coffee beans and boiling milk wafted through my bedroom door and teased my senses.  I heard the whirr of electric grinder-at first I thought it was my wife grinding dhokla mix for Laxmi. But when I got up and stepped into the kitchen, Laxmi greeted me with a smile and offered me a cup of coffee that tickled my taste buds-like a glass of vintage Merlot wine, it was a perfectblend of flavor, aroma, body and acidity. Sheer ambrosia, good to the last drop.  So ecstatic I felt, I could have kissed Laxmi.

She stayed with us for three days and imparted her secretart of brewing a delicious cup of coffee. She even gave me choicest coffee beans from Kerala and udipi filter(I wish she had sneaked in full cream buffalo milk!through Customs!) t to help me brew a perfect cup of Mysore coffee.

My ever grateful wife thanked Laxmi for the heavenly coffee-treats and as a gesture of her appreciation, disclosed her Chocolate Cake recipe to her.