I tried to learn to like black coffee off and on for years, and I’d never actually made it through even a half cup of the stuff, but somehow I made my peace with it this January, and I’ve been drinking it regularly ever since — long enough that I know the change is for realsies. I’m pretty sure it depends on the unusually excellent beans I’ve been buying, but mostly it’s just extreme nutritional motivation: I can save at least 50 calories per cup by going black. Every calorie is precious to me these days. One day I woke up and thought, “To save 75 calories? Yeah, I can deal with black coffee for that.” And I did.
Nevertheless, I’m truly surprised, because I never came close to tolerating it before. I still think its a bit like drinking medicine instead of a beverage, and if it gets too cold I can’t handle it anymore. But after three months, I’m still pouring coffee into a cup every morning and turning my back on my old friends, cream and sugar. When I do try them, I don’t think it’s so great that I have to go back.