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Shards


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<img src="http://forums.egullet.org/uploads/1210901337/gallery_29805_1195_37190.jpg" hspace="8" align="left">by Rob Connoley

I parked my truck and set off on foot for Site 21.384. When I came upon it, it was clear that it had not been ravaged since my last visit. I kneeled down and scratched at the dirt, looking for shards of pottery, which I would later recover in the dirt.

This particular site is from the Mimbreano culture ca. 1100 C.E. The Mimbreano culture lived almost exclusively in southwestern New Mexico, stretching tentacles into Texas and Arizona. These peaceful people eventually became victims of changing environmental conditions and interactions with other indigenous peoples.

What I find are pieces of bowls, plates, and cups. It's ironic that after all of these years, the items that lay scattered about the ground are from these ancient peoples' kitchens. It's rare to encounter items from other aspects of their lives – they either migrated with their owners in ancient U-Hauls, or eroded over time back into dust.

My first relationship didn't last as long as the pottery I have found. When my ex-wife and I were separating, the division of our possessions was mostly smooth. There was one exception however -- the blender. It was the only item that was non-negotiable to me -- Hey! It was a good blender. We argued for weeks about that stupid blender, and in the end, after she got the house and car, I got the blender. I was satisfied.

Less than two years later the blender died and was thrown in the trash.

I continued scratching at the dirt and rocks, finding more and more shards, more and more irony. Will someone be digging behind my house a thousand years from now asking why a blender was left behind? -- or the countless logo-laden coffee mugs that repose, neglected, in a box in my basement?

I'm not one of those people who need coffee to wake up in the morning, so I simply don't drink it. I find it to be bitter, nasty, gruel. I do drink coffee when it has caramel syrup, chocolate, and whipped cream, but my friends tell me that isn't coffee. My confession (or boast) belies the point that coffee has an almost universal acceptance. Recently I've also considered its socio-historical importance as well.

As I enjoyed a chocolate covered cake doughnut after church recently, I noticed that the social hall table was missing its faux-lace plastic tablecloth. I asked someone where it was, and was told that the "cloth" was being cleaned because someone had spilled coffee on it. I wasn't quite sure how plastic could stain, but then I remembered how darkened some people's coffee cups are following years of stain-inducing use. I shrugged. If it could happen to ceramic, it could happen to our $5 table covering.

Moments later, a dear friend approached the large uncovered table, delicately holding the rim of a foam coffee cup with her fingertips. As the cup hit the tabletop the java sloshed and splattered, singing her fingers and causing her to utter a short discourse of holy expletives. Such profanity had rarely been heard in this house of God!

Her uncontrolled tongue is the polar opposite of my spouse, who on a near daily basis pours his press pot of coffee into his travel mug, burping joe onto the counter and his hands. He never cusses when it happens -- something to do with the higher standard that is expected of his being a seminary graduate, I suspect.

Then there's my office mate. She also has her daily spill, though after 60 plus years of life, she doesn't cuss either. I assume her sanctimonious mouth comes from years and years of spills that have taught her the futility of yelling at the carnage. What's more remarkable is that you could map her days by the spills on her desk and person (she drinks no less than six 16 ounce cups daily). More often than not she enters the office with still warm coffee stains on her pants, her blouse, her paperwork, her carrying bags…you name it, if it didn't have a stain yesterday, it will today. While her years have tamed her mouth, they apparently haven't taught her how not to spill.

My once-a-month sugar-infused coffee provides me with little sympathy or understanding of why coffee drinkers go through this painful and messy ritual every day. My lack of understanding also makes me question whether it is just the people around me who have this problem.

That's why I'd grabbed my GPS, maps, and camera and headed to 21.384, an archeological site that I monitor for the New Mexico Site Watch program. (Once trained for this program, you go to a site every month and make sure neither thieves nor tourists have looted the area of valuable pre-historic objects.) I was looking to history to understand the great mystery of the morning beverage,

Generation upon generation leaves their old coffee mugs lying in the dirt to be found by the next. I, the non-coffee drinker, am stumped as to why these items are abandoned. I'm also left wondering -- again -- about spills. Did Mimbreanos splash their morning drinks, utter some prehistoric expletive, and fling their mugs in disgust (only to be unearthed years later by a tourist in faux-Indiana Jones garb?) What is it about the coffee culture that binds so many people, over so many years – eons, in fact -- into a club that instinctively curses over a spilt drink?

Whatever was drank in the morning in 1100 C.E., the breakfast potable has been a constant in our world, a symbol of our kitchens, our breakfast nooks, and the faithful companion to our morning toast. We start our day grumbling, waiting for caffeine to infuse us. But, at this special time in this special place, we also share our intimate dreams with loved ones. Whether we're cursing the spilled coffee or striking rocks together to get the day's fire started, there's nothing like waking up to a hot cup of brew with loved ones. And as for me, well damn it, I'll just add an extra squirt of chocolate syrup.

<div align="center">* * *</div>

Rob Connoley (aka gfron1) owns The Curious Kumquat, a specialty food store in the middle of nowhere New Mexico, and founder of the Silver City 'Cut the Cheese' Club. He is an eGullet Society host for Kitchen and Culinary Culture.

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Good Morning, Ron, and I wish you DID like coffee. I just finished an entire percolator---needed badly since my elderly bones are chasing after a nine-month-old today.

The flavor and the burble and the scent filling the morning rooms---that's a lovely part of my day, and I wish everybody shared the experience.

The weather has been too much with us for an outdoor cup lately, but I'd love a stroll iin your cup-garden. Still have my own little set of picks and brushes from college around here somewhere---we used to go to the Chuckalissa dig often, and there's nothing like a shine and a flash and a maybe to set your heart racing, and then there's the curve of the bowl, and a tiny glyph of birdwing---a better jolt than java.

Major envy of your constant access to the past's mysteries.

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Nice story Rob.

I've got issues with coffee too. Around here Tim Horton's coffee is pretty standard - I can't stand the stuff. Tea is my caffeine source, but for some reason when I'm eating out I like coffee with my meal.

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Great story Rob, and good on you to help preserve the past. Its amazing how a few fragments of someone else's life can stimulate the imagination.

A few years ago a friend of mine found some ceramic pieces while scuba diving. One of the fragments had a partial swastika on it!

These shards are believed to have come from a German U boat during WWII - apparently most of the harbors on the eastern seaboard were visited. Creepy.

Peter Gamble aka "Peter the eater"

I just made a cornish game hen with chestnut stuffing. . .

Would you believe a pigeon stuffed with spam? . . .

Would you believe a rat filled with cough drops?

Moe Sizlack

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Actually I love the smell of coffee - love it!  I love coffee ice cream, coffee chocolate...just not plain ol' coffee.  There's not much like the smell of coffee when you walk into the kitchen in the morning.

I'm like you. I adore the homey, comforting smell of a pot of coffee brewing. I wish it tasted as good as it smells :laugh:

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I've been thinking about the smells from morning drinks...

Most coffees - love the smell

Most teas - could care less about the smell (unless its a lapsong then I hate the smell)

Hot chocolate - do I even need to say what I think :)

Mate de Coca - incredibly grounding for me, takes me to the streets of Peru

Cider - immediately sends my mind to the apple farms of Indiana

Chickory - Many a memorable (or forgotten) night in New Orleans

Its funny how I don't remember any hot drink smells from my childhood. I'll have to ask my mom and brother and see if there was any. Thanks for your comments and thoughts!

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I love the smell of coffee too. Alas, I can't drink the real stuff, was addicted to caffeine until the doctor made me swtich to decaf (health purposes). The severe withdrawl symptoms (nausea, dizzyness, constant migraine for 2 weeks) made me swore off real coffee, Coke, teas for life. Now I drink 7-ups, decaf tea and decaf coffee. Bleagh.

Doddie aka Domestic Goddess

"Nobody loves pork more than a Filipino"

eGFoodblog: Adobo and Fried Chicken in Korea

The dark side... my own blog: A Box of Jalapenos

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  • 3 weeks later...

Great insights. Am reading Guns, Germs and Steel, which emphasizes the significant role that food production played in the flourishing of various peoples throughout history. Somehow, though, I am more interested in the back story of your ex-wife and the seminary student spouse...

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I've been thinking about the smells from morning drinks...

Its funny how I don't remember any hot drink smells from my childhood.  I'll have to ask my mom and brother and see if there was any.  Thanks for your comments and thoughts!

This made me remember the time my mother switched from her usual instant coffee to Postum in the morning. She had just won a microwave in a contest at work - the thing was enormous!! - and would use a glass mug to heat the water and add the Postum to it. I remember that smell. I wonder if they still sell Postum, I'll have to look in the supermarket for it just for old times sake!

Eventually she went back to coffee. For the longest time, well into my twenties in fact, I could not stand the smell of freshly ground or brewing coffee, it would make me physically ill. Somewhere it all changed, and now I am addicted to espresso and the dark roast at Starbucks!

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I've become aware lately that acidic teas make me neasueas in the morning, as does really bad coffee (Folgers). And clearly I haven't had anything to drink yet this morning, my first read of your comment was that she drank possum! So what is postum anyway?

BTW, I just spent a week with my mom and brother and neither drinks anything in the morning, unless someone else is. Instead, my mom works crossword puzzles with a glass of OJ. My brother has a glass of water with his blood pressure meds. And while I was with them, I had a water with my danish, followed by a juice if we had it.

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It was a powdered, instant type of drink that she was using as a coffee replacement - it might have been made from freeze-dried chicory or some other root. I don't remember anything else about it except that I tried it and didn't really care for it. But I was 12 at the time so that's not saying much :biggrin: It came in a jar, not a can, like ground coffee; it was probably more like instant coffee than anything else. I remember she always made it hot, as opposed to coffee which she had hot and iced. And in the summer, there was always a pot of tea cooling on the stove for iced tea.

Her mother, on the other hand, always had hot water after dinner. Not tea. Not coffee. Just hot water, which I never understood. And still don't!

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I think there's a jar in my coffee/tea cabinet somewhere. Chris is forever mentioning some taste-memory from his childhood---what Pammaw drank or what his Dad used as a never-fail health remedy for about six months at a time.

There's also Ovaltine and all sorts of powdered somethings. What I'd REALLY like to find is a coffee syrup like that used to make the regular pots at our local Dinner Theater. It's heavenly coffee, and I let them fill my cup every time they make the circuit during the performances.

The waiters say that they just measure in the syrup and let the pot drip as usual. It's addictive.

Anybody know what that is? We have several food service businesses as our clients, but they don't recognize the item.

Edited by racheld (log)
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