Creole Coffee

I drink my coffee strong and dark. The black coffee-drinking contingent of my family begins with my grandma Jessie Mae, carries through to my dad, and happily sits with me. The three of us will almost never turn down a fresh cup of coffee, and tend to press it upon one another. Do we like flavored beans, you ask? No thank you. Quickest way to ruin a cup of coffee there is. Milk and cream? Denied. If I want dessert, I'll have pie. In fact, the rare moments I find myself at Starbucks, I'm almost always sneering at the six-word drinks people are ordering in front of me, slowing down the line. Black coffee please, the largest you have. So simple they don't even have to write my name on the cup and put in a line of other frilly drinks being made while people wait at the other end of the counter.

So you get it now. I'm a black coffee girl. I like O'hori's beans. And I make a good cup that is almost never messed with in any way. Except this morning, I was thinking about the Dark Molasses Gingerbread Cake from Edna Lewis and Scott Peacock. It's pungent and dark and haunts you with its full flavor. Guess who else loves it? My dad and my grandmother, also fans of molasses. The cake begs for a cup of coffee to go with it.

And so on this cold and quiet February morning, when half of my cooking supplies are already packed up and the rest are on borrowed time, making that gingerbread isn't an option. Here's the next best thing:

Creole Coffee

- 1 mugful of coffee

- 2 teaspoons (or more) of molasses

- Stir and enjoy

Yep, it's coffee that's been "messed with." But it tastes so good I don't even think my dad or grandma would mind. In fact, I might make it for them next time I'm home.