Barako hangover

I like coffee. But when I was younger, I had the perception that coffee drinking was in the same league as cigarette smoking. It was one of those things that grown-ups did, the kind only they could do. It was black, bitter and best taken hot (but if you’re like my Lola Metring, she have it best with rice, yes, her favorite merienda was kanin at kape) and was never shown in Sesame Street. So I never drank coffee as a kid.

The first time I ever drank coffee, I couldn’t exactly remember, but it was right about first year high school I think. It has already been a while since I drank milk for breakfast (as I had psychological lactose intolerance) but I didn’t drink coffee in its place. I had tea, which remains as my preference until now the same way I laugh harder with British humor. But one morning, we’ve ran out if teabags and the only option remaining is the open jar of Taster’s Choice. So I had coffee. And it was yummy.

I’ve had coffee ever since. But my palette is discerning. My instant coffee introduction being Taster’s Choice, I would rarely accept a Nescafe 3in1. (Compare that to my tea preference, which remains to be basic black or English Breakfast. I don’t particularly like Earl Grey, or green tea, or any of those intensely aromatic ones, which my friends think is odd since as they say you drink tea for the aroma.) Even with the commercial coffee shops, the only ones I do prefer are from Starbucks and Bo’s and I won’t buy coffee from Seattle’s Best (but the tea there is good). But I’ll have brewed tea anywhere. And I love kapeng barako.

However, it seems to me that coffee does not like being loved too much. I remember back in college, as I was reviewing for the econometrics finals, I downed seven cups one after the other, and boy did I get through that exam. But that messed with my gut. Coffee, when I take it strong or many cups straight, gives me the worst acid attacks / headaches. I’m having one now thanks to the bottomless barako from Bag of Beans and it really is a lot like a hangover. Don’t get me wrong, the barako was great, but the caffeine, oh boy is it kicking. I might find myself up all night not liking the feeling in the head. I have got to sleep this off.  If only I had a few bottles of Red Horse.