A cup of coffee can be a very personal beverage and it can show how well you know a person. It can be an olive branch, something shared between good friends during long conversations, or it can simply be and comforting daily ritual. For me coffee is all that and more. My entire family has a coffee affliction. We swap tips and tricks, brands, joke about our dependency, and share dessert recipes that pair well with this amazingness in a cup. However, over the summer we were at my sister’s in-law’s house for coffee, they are Palestinian and make the most amazing Arabic coffee called qahwa. You could feel so much pride that they have for their culture in the simple act of sharing this coffee, and that is one of the things I love most about this family–they are unapologetically rooted in where they were born; there is a balance of holding on to traditions all while still loving the country where they now live. Me being third generation (American of Mexican decent) I sometimes feel that bits of my own heritage become lost. Most of the time this is not something I dwell on, but other times I will get this emotional whirlpool going on, and honestly it causes a bit of confusion and sadness. I also will feel guilt for wanting to embrace more of my Mexican heritage because I am afraid it will seem unpatriotic–when that is far from the truth. I love being American and I love my country, as does my family. My oldest daughter loves the 4th of July more than Christmas (crazy huh? Every year she insists that we have a birthday cake for America, and she wants to be president when she grows up), and have lots of family who are veterans, or who are still currently serving in different branches of the military. Long story short, slash, lots of emotions later this is what triggered my investigation for traditional Mexican coffee. This coffee crusade lead me to clay pot coffee also known as café de olla, and when I found it I thought I was bringing the lost art of coffee back to the Talamantes crew. I am actually not sure what I was expecting for my discovery, but the reaction I got was confusion. When I called my mom and grandmother to share my new coffee epiphany with them, their response was “do you mean cowboy coffee? That was before coffee pots. Don’t you have a Nespresso?” So it turns out my family already makes this coffee just not on the regular. Not to mention my Nana is 91 and has not made her own coffee for years, and quite frankly she has made her fair share of coffee, and it is now our turn to make her a cup– She takes hers with three sugar cubes and a little hot milk. Perhaps over a cup of coffee I should do a little more listening.