My grandmother was of Finnish descent, the daughter of immigrants. When it comes to coffee, the Finns get serious. Finland has one of the highest coffee consumptions in the world, and Finnish-Americans have always carried on the tradition. My grandmother drank her coffee black and strong enough to eat through the finish on the kitchen table if you spilled it. Children in the family were allowed coffee at an early age, and I was no exception. I remember getting a cup of milk (canned or fresh) with a splash of coffee and plenty of sugar. That was back in the good old days, giving a child coffee or plenty of sugar was not a bad thing. As I grew older, I was allowed more coffee than milk. By the time I was about 15, I was drinking it black and strong, just like Grandma. I remember Grandma and her sisters sitting around the kitchen table sipping, dipping, and gossiping. “Sipping” meant drinking coffee out of their saucers, which is something they did to cool those first few wonderful sips, before drinking the rest out of their cups. Saucer sipping was a European tradition that has gone by the wayside. One Scandinavian tradition involves putting a sugar cube between your teeth and slurping the saucered coffee through the cube for a special treat. Why? I can’t imagine, but I do know that there must have been quite a few shirts and blouses with coffee stains down the front, at least if those Scandinavians were related to me. I always manage to dribble a little even if I have a lid on the cup. “Dipping” meant dunking something sweet into their coffee, which sometimes made for a kind of chunky beverage if they lost of piece of cookie in their cup. Nothing ever went to waste for these depression-era ladies, though. A thoroughly soggy piece of cookie would just be fished out of the cup with a spoon and eaten. My family’s favorite dipper was a hard piece of cinnamon-and-sugar toast, dipped just for a moment in the hot coffee, just long enough to soften it for that perfect bite but not too long to make it fall apart and make for a chunky beverage. Grandma always had a tin of prune tarts in her cupboard. Prune tarts are a Finnish specialty: A cross between a pastry and a cookie, star-shaped and filled with a sticky sweet prune filling. I didn’t like them very much at all. Grandma made them because they were my dad’s favorite, and every time we visited, she sent him home with at least a dozen. A few years after Grandma died, I came across an old recipe for prune tarts, which included the directions for cutting and folding the dough into a star shape, just like she used to make. I excitedly told my dad that I would make them in place of some of my usual Christmas cookies. He quickly told me not to bother. Surprisingly, he didn’t care for prune tarts that much, either. He told me that he just told his mom they were delicious because he knew she had worked so hard to make them. Just like that, a family tradition is lost forever. It’s a good thing we still drink coffee. That will probably go on for generations to come. It is in our blood.
Coffee and prune tarts
October 22, 2012 by The Minnesota Farm Woman
Love it <3! I remember getting to dip gingersnaps in coffee with my Papaw (mom's dad, him and my Mamaw helped raise me)! I never did really become a coffee drinker, but any time I have a firm cookie, I want some sugar & cream coffee to dip it in! (and I have to admit, when I first read the name of this post I thought, hm, but they don't need much additional fiber). 😉
Your posts always bring a smile to my face and a little sunshine to my day!
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Thank you!
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What a wonderful story! My own nana was given coffee/sugar at the age of 2, and quickly graduated to the black coffee she enjoyed throughout her 101+ years! My earliest coffee memories were carrying my father’s thermos out to his car in the morning, filled with an amazingly tantalizing aroma, and of her ever-working percolar.
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Of all my readers, I was certain that you would like this one! Thanks for reading and commenting. Chris
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Thank you for those happy memories! 😀
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Brings back memories of my Finnish maternal grandmother at Xmas time. Prune tarts were one of my favorites!
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Maybe you’ll have to revive that tradition and make some! Their star shape makes them very Christmassy. Thanks for reading!
Chris
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Chris,
Oh, what lovely memories you’ve jogged for me! What a wonderful post.
My husband’s grandmother drank her coffee black & strong – so strong that I could barely down it. One morning, though, waking with a terrible migraine, I stumbled into her kitchen, and seeing my furrowed brow and miserable expression, she poured me a cup of that deep black coffee and said “Drink this!” One cup, and hmmm… the headache was easing a bit. She refilled that lovely Blue Willow teacup for me again, and once more I downed it. One more, and within thirty minutes, she’d cured my headache. Magic!
And dipping! I’d nearly forgotten this wonderful tradition. This morning — this blustery, cold, windy, rainy morning – I’m going to make myself a cup (decaf for me now these days) add my French vanilla creamer, and toast some oatmeal bread to “dip.” I’ll raise my cup of coffee & say “Cheers, Chris!”
With fond appreciation for a lovely start to my day…
Emma Ann
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