I Went Silent for 10 Days and Drank Instant Coffee

A Full Reset

A lot of you have been asking what I did during Mood’s winter shutdown earlier this month, so I thought I’d share a bit about it here.

2025 was a wild year. In many ways, it felt like the longest sprint of my life. Between growing Mood, navigating supply chains and increasing coffee prices, roasting, packing, shipping, writing, planning, dreaming, second-guessing, and repeating that cycle over and over again, I knew I needed a real pause. Not a “take a few days off but still answer emails” kind of pause. A full stop.

So I decided to start 2026 with a 10-day silent meditation retreat a few hours north of Toronto.

No phone.
No internet.
No reading.
No writing.
No talking.

Just me, my thoughts, a rigid daily schedule, and, I assumed, decent coffee.

Boy was I wrong about the coffee.

The Coffee Situation

I had actually done this meditation before, a few years ago, so I knew what the food situation was like. Simple. Nourishing. On point. I also knew what the coffee situation was.

Instant coffee.

I will not name the brand because you already know which one it is. You can probably picture the jar. I suffered through it last time and swore I would never do that to myself again. This time, I was going to be prepared.

I packed my own coffee. Not just any coffee. Good coffee. Along with my favourite pour-over, filters, and a hand grinder. I felt so clever and resourceful.

I made it approximately five minutes past check-in.

One look at my "coffee stuff” and they politely but firmly told me no. They took everything, locked it away in the kitchen for the next ten days, and casually pointed to the jar of instant coffee on the counter.

“You can drink that instead.”

The irony was not lost on me.

Here I was, someone who literally built a business around intentional coffee, being told I had to surrender control and drink brown powder dissolved in hot water. The universe was having a good laugh. It was a humbling moment.

A Mindset Shift

After a brief internal protest, I decided to lean into it. If I was going to be here for ten days, I was not going to spend them being miserable and judgmental about coffee. That felt like missing the entire point of why I was there.

So I made a decision.

I was going to make this instant coffee work.
I was going to stop being a snob.
I was going to experiment.

Suddenly, I was kind of excited.

The odds were absolutely stacked against me, but creativity thrives under constraints. With limited ingredients and way too much time inside my own head, I started getting inventive with how I used the instant coffee granules in both drinks and meals.

Experimentation

One morning, I added it to my oats. A spoonful of instant coffee, peanut butter, sunflower seeds, sliced bananas, and hot water. I stirred, braced myself, and took a bite.

It was… fine. Actually, more than fine. I almost couldn’t taste the coffee, and what was there added a subtle bitterness that balanced the sweetness of the banana and peanut butter. Unexpectedly enjoyable.

Three stars out of five.

Another day, I attempted what I thought would be a guaranteed win: a dirty chai. Instant coffee, a black tea bag, cinnamon, ginger, black pepper, hot water, and milk. In my mind, this was going to be rich, warming, and comforting.

It's not that I was wrong. It's that I was so very wrong.

This was, without question, worse than plain instant coffee in hot water. Aggressively bad. A flavour crime.

Zero stars out of five.
Do not recommend.

By Day 5, my creativity was waning. Instant coffee was winning the war, battle after battle. I was tired, mentally quiet, and very aware of how much comfort I normally derive from my morning coffee ritual.

Then, while waiting for my bread to toast one morning, a thought crossed my mind.

What would coffee butter taste like?

Discovery

With nothing else to do and nowhere else to be, I got to work. I softened butter and mixed it with cinnamon, brown sugar, instant coffee, and a pinch of salt. People were staring. Silence makes everything feel louder, including questionable culinary experiments.

I smeared the coffee butter on toast and topped it with raisins and sunflower seeds.

The verdict?

Genuinely excellent. Probably one of the best breakfasts I had during the entire retreat. Rich, sweet, slightly bitter, and deeply comforting.

Four stars out of five.

And then, just like that, the ten days were over.

Aftereffects

The first sip of real coffee after the retreat was nothing short of glorious. Not because it was fancy or rare, but because my senses were wide open. I noticed everything. The aroma. The sweetness. The acidity. The way the flavours unfolded slowly instead of hitting all at once.

I picked up tasting notes more clearly than I had in a long time. It reminded me that our palates adapt quickly, and that when we are constantly stimulated, we stop noticing the details.

That short hiatus made me deeply appreciative of good-quality coffee again. Something I had unknowingly started to take for granted over the last few years, even as someone who works with it every single day.

The time off was grounding and necessary.

And now, I am very happy to be back.

I am excited about where Mood is headed in 2026. About the coffees we are sourcing, the stories we are telling, and the moments of intention we are creating through something as simple, and as powerful, as a daily cup of coffee.

Thank you for being here. Truly. I hope you’ll stay along for the ride as Mood continues to grow.

Cheers,
Seema

P.S. I reworked the coffee butter recipe once I got home using real coffee, and it is phenomenal. If you want to try it for yourself, you can get the recipe here.