My parents on weekends would make coffee in their little four serving percolator. During the week they didn’t have time to make coffee in the morning it was to much rushing to get dressed and out the door by 7:15 and in the car and go.
The weekends are different my parents would slow down, the father would read three newspapers, my mother would make pancakes, or french toast. My father figured to perk the coffee for nine minutes, once the water comes to a boil in the percolator. I was a child then I just wanted to watch Saturday morning cartoons on ABC before getting dressed for dancing school.
The Second coffee impact was my grandmother Rose Circoria, who came from a small village in Italy called Caltri. She and her relatives loved drinking espresso, demitasse it was called in those days before Starbucks and other coffeehouses. She had this banged-up old and small espresso pot that has three parts, the top part you add the water, I think it was just a cup in half not two cups. The top part you place on the stove let the water come to a boil. Part two unscrew the basket, filter add two scoops of fine-grind coffee from the can back in those days. Attach the basket,filter part to Part three the bottom which had the spout. When the water comes to a boil you pour the boiling water though the basket, filter then close the top part over the basket, filter and place aside on the counter allow the coffee to brew then serve. My grandmother get out her little demitasse set of coffee cups she just had five, because one broke. I remember aroma of the espresso, would fill the house and have Italian cookies from the bakery and sitting with her friends. I guess it’s why I like coffee and going out to get it at my favorite coffeehouse I like talking to my friends and people passing though. It why I became a coffee drinker