Coffee Hour

Every time my family and I visited my Norwegian grandmother we would have coffee hour after dinner. This was a special time where we had dessert and coffee (or at least the adults had coffee) as we listened to my grandmother tell stories of her life in Norway. In Norway coming of age used to be marked by the privilege of drinking coffee, unlike the American tradition of consuming alcohol at age 21. I remember the proud moment when I had my first cup of coffee-which I stopped drinking frequently to add more sugar and cream until it reached a tolerable flavor. My grandmother was so proud, she loved seeing all of us grow up and teaching us her traditions; coffee was just one small step towards adulthood. Learning to bake was a whole different story.
The traditional baked goods that were consumed during coffee hour were created from recipes that had been passed down from generation to generation. Each cookie, pastry, and doughnut symbolized a little piece of history, my heritage. I didn’t realize it at the time; I was too mesmerized by the smells and tastes to really appreciate the history and tradition behind it. Now that my grandmother can no longer bake I appreciate it so much more. It wasn’t like having ice cream at Baskin Robins or a sundae at Dairy Queen. Coffee hour was its own moment, a time of reminiscing and ‘counting your blessings’ where you could forget your worries and just melt into the comfort of good food, memories and fellowship with family. Now I must make the delightful food, memories and moments myself. It may look a little different because recreating something so unique and wonderful is difficult, but will be meaningful nonetheless.