The most American thing about me is the coffee
I'm not pretentious when it comes to coffee. I like it slightly weak and bitter with a ton of milk or cream in it, and that's it. Go to any cafe in America and this is the kind of coffee you find: drip coffee, bitter but weak, with a splash of milk (some people even push it further with pumps of sweeteners, but fortunately I'm not that uncultured).
However, it wasn't until the first time I left the US (I went to London over a decade ago), when I ordered "just a small coffee, please" and watched in horror as the woman prepared an Americano, that I realized I drank coffee "like an American." I remember walking out of the cafe confused, thinking she got my order wrong. But it kept happening.
One day, after getting yet-another Americano I didn't order, I finally grew a backbone and told the person in my politest voice: "Um, I ordered a coffee, actually? Just regular coffee, please." The woman looked at me like I was stupid. "Yes, that is coffee," she said. That was when I realized that drip coffee wasn't a thing there, or really anywhere in Europe or Asia. It's really more of an Americas thing, but you don't realize that until you leave and suddenly realize you can't find anyone to sell you a massive "to-go" jug of watered-down drip coffee.
Over time I acclimated, but even while in Asia (which genuinely has fantastic coffee) I kept finding myself missing regular drip coffee. Espressos, lattes, and Americanos are strong and hard on the stomach. You can't drink too much of it. But I like drinking 3-4 cups of coffee a day due to ritualistic habit. I also like carrying my coffee with me all day so I can sip on it all morning.
In other countries, it's not like that. You're expected to just sit down, spend 10 minutes drinking this annoyingly tiny cup of coffee, and then leave. One time I ordered an ice coffee that came in a cup so small, I complained to my husband that the whole thing was gone in only two gulps. By the end of the trip, I was so desperate for a large cup of drip coffee that I almost walked into a Starbucks.
One night while having dinner with my husband's friends, I accidentally got too comfortable and said, "I think the most American thing about me is the coffee," which ignited a rant from someone at the table. He said Americans have the worst coffee, that we annoyingly pronounce it "CAW-FEE," that it tastes like sewer water, and that we're all fucking stupid for drinking it.
I told him I think of coffee the same way I think of beer. Is it the best tasting? No. Can it be bitter? Yes. But it's weak enough that you can drink several cups of them and get a nice buzz without overdoing it. I would never, for example, drink 5 shots of vodka, but I could easily drink 5 beers.
I thought it was a good explanation, but no one at the table agreed. American coffee is bad and I just needed to accept it, they said. I rolled my eyes, but then I started to think that maybe they were right. Maybe I'm just holding on to bad habits because they're familiar and they're what I'm used to.
When I got back to the US, the first thing I did was brew myself a regular ass cup of coffee (black, Twin Peaks style, although with a donut instead of a slice of cherry pie), and as I sipped it, it tasted like home, but it also kind of tasted...bad. But maybe that's how I like it. Beer doesn't taste good either, but sometimes when I'm in the mood for one, it tastes really good. It's hard to describe.
But, screw it, I like my watered-down coffee! It's cheap(ish), it's easy to make at home, and I can drink vats of it without upsetting my stomach. In fact, I'm drinking one right now.
Ah, delicious sewer water...