making coffee at home is terrific.
it's more cost-effective, less wasteful,
and it's good to give money directly to the coffee bean growers,
especially to support and encourage those local/organic companies.
coffee is perplexing on many levels.
a perfect for instance; the brewing sound is soothing AND stimulating at the same time. ?!
sadly, the French press is silent
(if it were to brew in a forest with no one there to listen, would it then make a sound?),
which I've learned to enjoy in it's own way,
because the absence of noise, means I'm not using more electricity or plastic parts than I have to.
The stovetop percolator is underrated.
Their old-fashioned appearance and sturdy construction produces the neatest perking sound.
but my kitchen isn't large enough for duplicate luxuries.
when I already own a perfectly good apparatus,
it's excessive to buy another appliance.
but I sure would like to see a metal percolator sitting upon my back burner.
apparently, they often accidently boil the coffee,
which lessens the flavor, and makes it more bitter.
"boiled coffee is spoiled coffee."
so, I think I'm better off with a french press at home anyway.
a percolator would be good for camping, but only for camping.
(it's much like an electric razor;
sadly, lots of men use it on an everyday basis,
when it should be ONLY used in a pinch when there's no water around)
Still, I'd rather use a percolator than a drip coffee machine...
to me, each aspect in the cup-of-joe production is excitingly important;
-shopping for the right beans.
reading hand-written recommendations the considerate grocery clerks have taped to bulk bins,
leaving me the choice of sticking to a comforting favorite,
or daring to spice it up with something different and exotic,
-keeping them air-tight and fresh.
the containers and methods of which, I find fascinating,
and have spent many an hour online devouring the myths and tips of it's storage
(examples: do NOT store in the refrigerator, and grind only *immediately* before brewing).
-it's distinctive "good morning!" fragrance wafting from my kitchen.
-using my mechanically simplistic, attractively basic French press,
allowing it to steep long enough to be flavorful,
while practicing the virtue of patience
and reaffirming the best of things usually take time.
-sipping from my beautiful tea cups.
remembering not only are they vintage, oven-safe, and well-crafted,
but were also a loving birthday present from a dear friend,
which were packed into my carry-on for a cross-country plane ride
from a long-deserved vacation.
-pairing it with a pastry or trying out a new jam.
(turns out the friendship of hot coffee and refrigerated chocolate cake
is so deeply intense and poignant it's almost a religious experience)
-rinsing everything off, and starting my day on the right foot,
the morning coffee rituals having prepared me
for an organized day of responsibility and appreciation.
yes, I enjoy the entire process.
black coffee makes a statement.
it's the simplest you can get, but the acquired taste makes it sophisticated.
it says; strong, powerful, clean, uncomplicated, classic, mature,
yet it looks almost mysterious and haunting.
When I was younger, I would add a ton a cream and a bunch of sugar.
but i've slowly weaned myself towards black,
believing it would be better (and healthier) for me to appreciate the pure flavor.
now, I proudly drink it black,
though, on random occasions, I'll stir in a half spoon of raw sugar for fun.
because I don't like the waste of paper cups,
I'm trying to find the right thermos for me.
it needs to have a black lid, so there's no lipstick stains.
it needs to be porcelain,
(hot liquids look weird in clear glass containers,
and I swear stainless steal gives it a metallic taste).
and without a company logo on it.
I will find it someday.
"Harry, I'm going to let you in on a little secret.
Every day, once a day, give yourself a present.
Don't plan it.
Don't wait for it.
Just let it happen.
It could be a new shirt at the men's store,
a catnap in your office chair,
or two cups of good, hot black coffee."
-Agent Dale Cooper, Twin Peaks.
my friend Steve said,
"My favorite is to take a shower and then start the coffee as I’m getting dressed.
And then lay down on the couch to the warm sounds of it bubbling up and crackling
(I think only my machine does that).
And in a weird reversal of mind, I wake up at the absence of a sound,
instead of the sound itself.
I wake up at the quieting of the coffee maker.
Then I get up and pour myself a cup,
sit in the window and read or write and wait.
And it only gets better as the fall comes."