Coffee, rediscovered

My parents had very few rules, but they were firm on one: if you're going to drink coffee, you have to learn to drink it black.

And it's a good rule. You need to learn to enjoy the real taste of coffee. There are going to be times when cream and sugar won't be available.

But I'm just finally realizing that just because I can drink it black, doesn't mean I have to.

Specifically, I can add a generous dash of milk.

And suddenly coffee -- unforgiving, harsh on the stomach -- becomes creamy, decadent, sinful.

So when I was driving through St. Peter this weekend and needed a break, the neon "OPEN" sign of the co-op caught my eye, and soon enough I was at the coffee bins, letting glossy rich beans pour down into the brown paper bag, visions of steamy cups dancing in my head.