What's wrong with a basic drip?
Nothing beats un simple cafecito.
Coffee has always been a simple pleasure, a comforting ritual to start the day, or a comfort drink in the afternoon when I’m having a not so good day. I know— a less-than-good day is usually followed by bourbon on the rocks, but coffee is my emotional comfort drink. Speaking of emotional stability, this makes a good segue way into my next point. I’ve noticed, over the past decade, it seems like coffee has been having an identity crisis. We’ve whipped it (hello, Dalgona), iced it, layered it with oat milk, almond foam, and vanilla-cinnamon-sugar-sprinkles-to-go. Cold brew is suddenly its own entire category, and espresso martinis are having a comeback. Coffee isn’t just coffee anymore; it’s a full-blown identity. And while I appreciate the creativity, I sometimes wonder—will we ever be content with just a cup of coffee again?
Would you believe I didn't even start drinking coffee until I was in my 30s. Yep, I spent years as a loyal tea drinker. I had tea with everything—breakfast, snacks, and chocolate (I love tea with chocolate!). Tea was my cozy comfort, my trusted companion. Then one day, for no apparent reason, I got a whiff of my husband’s iced coffee and decided to try coffee, and it hit me: this was the missing puzzle piece. How had I gone all these years without understanding the magic of a rich, warm cup of un *cafecito* (and avocados, but that’s another post for another time)?
It wasn’t long before I realized why my family, friends, neighbors, and basically every Dominican I knew had built their social lives around this beverage. Growing up, in NYC and summers in DR, whenever someone would visit the house—whether a close relative or a stranger—there was always the same offering: *un cafecito*. It didn’t matter the time of day or how busy life was, everything was “okay” *con un cafecito*. In fact, I think the words *"un cafecito"* have solved more disputes, opened more conversations (also read chismes), and smoothed over more awkward silences than any mediator or therapist could ever dream of.
By the way, the Dominican Republic isn’t just a country of coffee drinkers—it’s a place where coffee is the pulse of social life. You can’t visit someone’s home, drop by a neighbor’s house, or even meet someone new without being offered a steaming cup of coffee. And it’s not just any coffee; it’s often brewed in small quantities, strong enough to keep you awake for days, and poured with the love and precision that only someone well-versed in Dominican coffee culture can provide. In fact, when you visit the Dominican consulate in NYC, they offer you a cup of coffee hoping to make your seemingly endless wait-time more tolerable.
Dominican coffee isn’t just a local favorite—it’s a global treasure. Coffee production in the Dominican Republic dates back centuries, starting with Spanish colonists in the early 18th century. Over time, coffee became not just a major part of daily life but a cornerstone of the country's economy. Dominican coffee beans have earned their place in the world’s most discerning coffee cups, declared some of the best beans globally due to their unique flavors, cultivated in the shaded areas of the country’s high-altitude, fertile soils.
Coffee’s journey from the Caribbean to global markets was one built on trade, economic shifts, and social dynamics that shaped the world as we know it. Throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries, the Dominican Republic became a significant coffee exporter, with coffee production becoming integral to the country's economy. It wasn't just about business—coffee provided jobs, structured entire communities, and became a symbol of resilience and pride for the island’s people.
However, the history of Dominican coffee, as with anything non-European, isn’t without complexity. The labor behind those beans was often supplied by enslaved Africans and later, indigenous people, whose stories are interwoven with the plantations and export markets of the time. Despite this painful history, the Dominican people have emerged as proud producers of some of the finest coffee in the world, with beans that stand out for their rich, robust flavors.
It’s not just us Dominicans who think we have the best coffee. The world has started to take notice, too. In recent years, Dominican coffee has been declared among the best beans on the planet. Whether it’s the smooth, slightly nutty undertones or the hint of chocolate in a perfectly roasted bean, Dominican coffee has captured the hearts (and taste buds) of connoisseurs everywhere. Why don’t we see it around the US as much? Only 20% of DR’s coffee beans are exported, the rest is consumed by Dominicans themselves!
These days, I find myself reflecting on the simplicity of coffee habits. My dad still uses un colador for his coffee, my mom drinks your basic drip. They didn’t, and still don’t, need fancy frothers or caramel drizzles. All they need is a small cup of strong coffee to bring people together, to start the day, to take a break, or to connect with someone across the table. In a world where coffee culture seems to evolve faster than the seasons, I wonder if we’ll ever get back to the basics—or if we’ll keep chasing the next big coffee trend.
As for me, I’m enjoying the ride, trying oat milk one day and a basic drip coffee the next. I love the evolution of coffee culture and the way it’s woven itself into the fabric of my daily life. But no matter how many espresso martinis or whipped coffees I encounter, nothing will replace the warmth and comfort of a traditional *cafecito*.
Peace,
MA