Espresso Regresso

I usually don't drink coffee in the afternoon, except for the occasional iced decaf to-go while I'm driving around doing errands in the summer.  But yesterday I couldn't resist when my mother, Rose Assunta Maria Clara Viviani Del Presto, offered me a cup of espresso during a visit to her house.  This had been  a ritual in my grandparents' house every day when I was growing up-the grinds that looked like black sand would be packed in on one end, water would go in the other, the simple espresso maker would be placed over a burner in their basement kitchen, (the main kitchen was only used on holidays) and eventually it would be flipped over.  When the thick, dark coffee was ready, my grandfather would carefully pour it into demitasse cups.  A  bottle of anisette would appear next and a little bit might be added, especially if company dropped by.  My favorite way to drink it was with sugar and lots of it.   Everyone would stir it all up with the tiniest spoons, creating a tinkling sound so appealing that you always stirred longer than you had to.

I indulged in the espresso yesterday to re-create a snippet of  those days when my Italian-American family enjoyed multi-course meals in that small basement.  It was a chance to relive the afternoons I spent as a young girl at the tables of aunts, uncles, cousins, and godmothers, when I could only pick up the non-Italian part of the conversation but sat quietly and politely taking it all in.   Yesterday, my mother used the same simple espresso maker from the old days, unlike the fancy, plug-in model that I have in my home and still don't know how to use.   She poured, we stirred and sipped and chatted about this and that.
If the intense shot of caffeine was going to keep me up all night, so be it.   And if the super heaping teaspoon of sugar was a detour from my usual sugarless cup of joe,  fine by me.  It was worth every bit of extra hyperactivity that day and wakefulness last night to hover in the past for a short time simply over a cup of coffee with my mom.....and the anisette-worthy company in our hearts.