Chocolate Caramel Rum Coffee

Early February. Jessica is forty weeks pregnant. Huy is due Friday. Tyler called Tuesday to say they were in the hospital — false alarm, sent home. Wednesday — false alarm again. Thursday morning the labor started for real. Tyler called me at 7 AM. I drove. Six hours to Midland. I arrived at 1 PM. Tyler was in the waiting room — Jessica in active labor, Marcus and Jade with Jessica's sister, Tyler pacing. He said, "Dad, this is taking longer than the others." I said, "Third babies sometimes do." He said, "I'm scared." I said, "I know." We sat. We waited. We did not talk much. Tyler is not a talker. I am not a talker. We sat next to each other and let the silence be the company.

Huy Tran was born at 6:47 PM on Thursday February 11, 2027. Eight pounds two ounces. The biggest of the three Tyler kids. Healthy. Loud. Pink. He has Tyler's nose and Jessica's chin. He is named after my father, who never met him, who would have loved him.

Tyler held him at 7 PM. I held him at 7:30. The third Tyler grandchild. The fifth Tran grandchild. Bobby Tran is the grandfather of five. I sat in the chair in the hospital room and held the namesake of my father and I cried. Not loudly. Just steadily. Tears for ten minutes. Tyler watched. He did not say anything. Then Jessica — who had just delivered an eight-pound baby and who was completely exhausted — said, in a tired voice, "Bobby, give me my son back. You can hold him after I sleep." I laughed. I gave her Huy. The matriarch (Jessica) reclaimed the baby. The grandfather sat. The cycle continues.

I drove home Saturday after staying the day Friday with Tyler and the kids. Six hours back to Houston. Stopped at the same Whataburger as last time, eighteen months ago when Jade was born. Same parking lot. Same No. 1 with cheese. Different grandchild. Same gratitude. The math of a life. I called Mai from the parking lot and told her. She said, "Now you have five." I said, "Now I have five." She said, "Five is a lot." I said, "Yes." She said, "I will see Huy soon?" I said, "Yes. Tyler will bring him in two months." She said, "Good. Drive home safely." I drove home safely.

The small Houston-summer-heat-and-humidity is the small weather-reality. The small grill outdoors at five-AM-on-the-weekend trick is the small same trick the small Phoenix-firefighter Marcus uses but for different climate-reasons. The small Texas-Gulf-coast humidity is the small constant. The small Vietnamese-summer-cooking traditions are the small adaptation.

The three kids are now adults. Tyler is the small oldest, Emma is the small middle, Lily is the small youngest. The small divorce in 2015 (after Bobby’s affair) had been the small marriage-end. The small kids have been the small slow-rebuild of the small father-trust. The small Linh (Bobby’s older-sister, the small pediatrician in Houston) has been the small adult-presence the small kids look to.

The small backyard grill is the small Houston-cooking-engine. The small Vietnamese-grilled-pork (thit nuong), the small grilled-shrimp (the small irony of the small ex-shrimper still grilling shrimp), the small bo nuong (grilled-beef), the small ga nuong (grilled-chicken). The small charcoal-grill in the small backyard of the small Bellaire-bungalow runs almost every weekend.

The Whataburger No. 1 held me over for six hours of highway, but when I finally walked into my house in Bellaire on Saturday night it was quiet in a way that asked for something warmer — something that said five grandchildren out loud without needing words. I made this drink instead of sleeping. It is sweet the way relief is sweet. It is strong the way a long day earns. If my father Huy were here, I would have handed him one too.

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

2 cups freshly brewed strong hot coffee
2 tablespoons chocolate syrup, plus extra for drizzling
2 tablespoons caramel sauce, plus extra for drizzling
2 oz dark rum
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
1 tablespoon powdered sugar
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
Pinch of sea salt

Instructions

Whip the cream. In a small bowl or with a hand mixer, beat the heavy cream, powdered sugar, and vanilla extract until soft peaks form. Set aside.
Prepare the mugs. Drizzle the inside of two warmed mugs with a swirl of chocolate syrup and caramel sauce. Tilt and rotate so the drizzle coats partway up the sides.
Build the drink. Divide the chocolate syrup (2 tablespoons) and caramel sauce (2 tablespoons) evenly between the two mugs. Add 1 oz of dark rum to each mug.
Add the coffee. Pour the hot brewed coffee over the rum and sauces, filling each mug. Stir gently to combine. Add a pinch of sea salt to each and stir once more.
Top and serve. Spoon or pipe the whipped cream over each drink. Finish with an extra drizzle of caramel and chocolate syrup across the top. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chocolate Caramel Rum Coffee — The Toast I Made When I Got Home to Houston