My memories of coffee as a child was my mother putting the coffee into a tin pot and ,after adding water, bringing it to a full boil on our old woodstove.There would obviously be a few grounds in the coffee but what a delicious aroma it gave off.Obviously I was not yet an addict at that age.
Another memory of warmth and security at home was the sound of potatoes boiling on the stove, especially on a Sunday morning.Dad would take out his strop and straight razor(which would cut a hair at a touch, his sharpness test)and proceed to shave,almost never cutting himself, a miracle in my eyes.
Sorry for running on so long but memories are so pleasant and precious. I agree, this is a great thread.