I love coffee ice cream; it’s one of my favorite flavors. And when I spent some time in the Netherlands before the turn of the century, I frequented a fine restaurant that offered chocolate-covered coffee beans as an after-dinner treat, and I liked them.
But I never drink coffee.
I had a cup once that I loved, but I didn’t drink it. What happened was that one night I had to roll a flat tire through a mile or more of muddy, wet, slushy and freezing cold roadway – barehanded – to a service station to have it repaired. (My friend’s car had no spare, and since it was his car, and he was driving, and I hadn’t paid for fuel – it was my job to take care of this task.) When I got to the service station the manager offered me a mug of hot coffee, which I just held in my hands to warm them up after that ordeal. That was great coffee!