"Coffee, the word itself is a robust delight to the senses; you can smell its aroma, feel its stirring fortifying your resolve and adding sanity to you day." I cannot put it more eloquently than this fabulous sentence at the back of a cup that I bought from Nancy's Coffee at Armory Square. Using SAT language, coffee to me is analogous to Hemingway's pen or a Samurai's sword. I have the habit of having a cup of coffee daily. In fact, one of my life's most ambitious missions is to taste all the different coffee around the world. I don't remember when and how I initially got into drinking coffee. Maybe it was after watching the hilarious scene in the movie "Pulp Fiction," where Harvey Keitel asks Quentin Tarantino for a cup of gourmet coffee.

Like Keitel's "Wolf" character, I am very picky with my coffee - I need lots of cream and sugar. While I respect people who drink black coffee, I trust they believe that having only either cream or sugar in coffee defeats the ultimate goal of coffee appreciation - imagine the awkwardness of someone wearing only one sock. My passion for coffee ranges from traditional fresh brewed to trendy latté, dark espresso to light Cappuccino. I even purchase other coffee-related products such as chocolate-covered espresso beans and mocha chip cookies.

During the intermission of Puccini's Tosca at the London Opera House three springs ago, I tasted the best coffee I have ever had. I was holding this cup of smooth java while sharing an unpleasant experience that I had with the coatroom manager with my friend. As Puccini's powerful melodies resonated in my head in the midst of British uptightness, I realized that music is a necessity to any coffee-drinking event.

However, I only encountered the right kind of music when I arrived in Paris three days later. After watching "Star Wars" with French subtitles in a local movie theatre, my friend and I decided to discuss our truly Kafka-esque experience in a nearby café. As we walked in, I heard Chet Baker's soulful trumpet playing following the poignant lyrics, "Lately I found myself glazing at stars, hearing guitar, like someone in love…" I immediately recognized that the store was playing Chet Baker Sings!, an album that I own in my impressive LP collection and one that I would clutch under my arm in event of a fire. As the record (the songs "But Not For Me" and "Look For the Silver Lining" in particular) piped through the speakers, I romanticized the relaxed moments I had with my friends on West Broadway while trying to pick up girls.

At that moment, I discovered that jazz music goes perfectly with coffee - of course, that unique discovery had a lot to do with Chet Baker's voice. Jazz lovers agree that Baker's vocals take on other worldly qualities and encapsulate the laid-back West Coast swing. His talents answer famous free jazz musician Ornette Coleman's question, "Have you ever heard someone who couldn't sing, but did something to you emotionally?"

Baker himself proclaimed, "I don't know whether I'm a trumpet player who sings or a singer who plays the trumpet." Chet's sweet, melancholic voice moves me in a profound way. The combination of the mellow atmosphere and the beauty of the Parisienne city made my experience resemble the Tony Bennett song, "Stepping out of a Dream."

Thanks to Baker, jazz remains my favorite music as I drink my coffee. During my Shanghai trip this August, my uncle and I had a terrific time watching the fantastic live performance of the legendary Peace Hotel Elderly Jazz Band while sipping our gourmet Chinese coffee.

I've left footprints across the globe with jazz and coffee. I had a tremendous café au lait in Pasadena, California while listening to John Coltrane's Ballads. I enjoyed my dark Colombian roast in a café in Lisbon, Portugal where Stan Getz and Joao Gilberto's record was being played. Miles Davis' "It Never Entered My Mind" also brought me back childhood memories when had my fresh brewed papua in Ithaca. There are some moments when I am glad that I am alive and drinking coffee while listening to jazz is one of them.

This Christmas I aim to go back to my homeland, Hong Kong, sit at a café, pretend to read one of my favorite Milan Kundera novels, and listen to the Chet Baker's sentimental voice as I sip my Cappuccino.

It's only November and I've already found my Christmas carols, have you?

E-mail me at henry@henrychung.net