A cup of coffee - real coffee - home-browned, home ground, home made, that comes to you dark as a hazel-eye, but changes to a golden bronze as you temper it with cream that never cheated, but was real cream from its birth, thick, tenderly yellow, perfectly sweet, neither lumpy nor frothing on the Java: such a cup of coffee is a match for twenty blue devils and will exorcise them all.
And Henry Ward Beecher was absolutely right! I am supposedly on a diet, but exception is made for my afternoon mocha. Nothing but whole cream with 100% fat is spooned into the steaming cup.
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