Instant Latte Mix

Easter. Brunch in Bellevue. Karen made ham. The standard.

The kimchi crock was bubbling Saturday morning when I checked. The bubbling is the right bubbling. The fermentation knew what it was doing.

Sprint review at Amazon Friday. Two hours. I could have been on a podcast.

Reading at night. A novel by a Korean-American writer about a family in 1990s LA. I underlined four sentences. The underlining is the marking-of-the-territory of the soul.

David came over for Sunday dinner. He brought some tomatoes from the Bellevue garden.

A blog reader wrote about her own adoptee experience. We exchanged three emails this week.

I made coffee at seven. Hana ate cereal at seven-fifteen. Min wandered down at seven-twenty-five. James left for work at eight. The morning was the morning. The standard.

Rain on the porch all afternoon Saturday. The Wallingford rain is its own weather. I sat with a book and a tea and did not move for two hours.

The newsletter went out Sunday morning. The opening sentence took an hour. The piece took five. The piece was what it needed to be.

The Capitol Hill apartment kitchen is small. We make it work.

Hana left a Lego on the kitchen floor. I stepped on it at two AM. Standard.

Yoga Tuesday morning at the studio. The forward fold released something I had been carrying in the shoulder. The mat is the mat.

Jisoo sent a photo of the dol the kids did for our visit last summer. The photo went on the fridge.

I texted Jisoo a photo of the kimchi in the new onggi pot. She replied with the thumb-up emoji and a Korean-language critique. The duality is the gift.

Sunday farmers market on Wallingford Avenue. The kabocha at the Asian vendor's stall. The shishito peppers. The brokered conversation. We bought too much. We always do.

The shiso on the south fence is fragrant and unruly. I brushed past it taking the compost out and the smell stopped me. The smell is the country. The smell is Jisoo's apartment.

My Korean is improving. Slowly. Painfully. Conversationally adequate now. I can argue about kimchi proportions in two languages, which is a milestone in any marriage between mother and daughter.

I read a thread on the Korean Adoptee subreddit Saturday. Some posts brought up old anger. Most are people figuring it out in real time. We are not unique. We are a community.

Therapy Tuesday with Dr. Kim. We talked about the parents — the two sets, the one living, the one gone, the one who became real after thirty years and the one who was real my whole life and is now gone. The work is the layered work.

I sat at the kitchen counter at six AM with a notebook and a cup of green tea. Writing time before the house wakes. The pre-light hour is the only writing hour I trust.

James and I had date night Friday. Indian restaurant on 45th. We ate too much. We sat in the car after talking about nothing for an hour. The marriage is the marriage.

The six AM counter, the notebook, the green tea — that pre-light hour is sacred, but some mornings the tea isn’t enough and I want something that feels like a small indulgence without requiring me to think too hard before the house wakes up. I started keeping a jar of this instant latte mix in the cabinet for exactly those mornings: the tired ones, the grateful ones, the ones after a week of sprint reviews and therapy sessions and emails with strangers who somehow know exactly what you mean. You shake it together once, and then for weeks it’s just a scoop and some hot water between you and the writing hour.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 16 (makes about 16 single-cup servings)

Ingredients

1 cup nonfat dry milk powder
3/4 cup instant coffee granules
1/2 cup powdered non-dairy creamer
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon vanilla powder (or 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract stirred in per cup)
Pinch of fine sea salt

Instructions

Combine dry ingredients. Add the dry milk powder, instant coffee granules, powdered creamer, sugar, cocoa powder, cinnamon, vanilla powder, and salt to a large bowl. Whisk together until evenly blended and no cocoa clumps remain.
Transfer to storage. Pour the mix into an airtight jar or container. It will keep at room temperature for up to 3 months. Label the jar with the date and the serving instructions.
To make one latte. Measure 3 tablespoons of the mix into your mug. Add 8 ounces of hot water (just off the boil) and stir well for about 30 seconds until fully dissolved. Taste and adjust — add another half tablespoon of mix if you want it richer, or top with a splash of warm milk for extra creaminess.
Optional froth. If you have a small milk frother, pour in 2 ounces of warm milk and froth directly in the mug after stirring in the mix. It will feel more like a proper latte and less like a weekday survival strategy, even when it is both.

Nutrition (per serving)

Instant Latte Mix — The Six AM Cup That Makes the Writing Hour Possible