the art of home coffee brewing
I was going to title this entry, "Su vs. Coffee Maker" but I can't be warring with everything, can I? For this rainy Tuesday, I leave the inanimate objects in peace...for now. However, it was a close one. After making not one, but three pots of dubious, watery coffee with bits of grinds floating inside like fruit flies, destroying many freshly ground beans of perfectly decent (fabulous) Kona brew, Su had a sit down with the coffee maker. She understood she had had it since college, had been through faces where she only drank tea, in fact, she only really turned to her coffee maker in earnest during times of need (usually a hard impending deadline or exams.) Often she would go out for coffee, socially or even casually to pick up a cup. It was something to do. So was it any wonder when Su dusted off the home coffee maker to put in the prized beans that this would happen?
Still. Coffee must be drinkable. If you are a coffee maker, you must fulfill your function. Su reminded the coffee maker of the narrow miss in which she almost (about should have) bought a friend's lightly used expresso machine, on sale for a song. She told the coffee maker if he didn't get his act together, she was going to get one of those old timey percolators that made the strong dark coffee, and sound like a steam engine when they are really brewing, or else go for the casual ease of a french press, which makes coffee seem as easy as brewing a cup of tea.
And so, the coffee pot really tried, and so did Su, and this afternoon out came 6 cups of absolutely perfect coffee. Perhaps it was because Su doubled the grounds, or properly cleaned the coffee pot from head to toe, or maybe it was the talk. Hard to say.
When Su's parents were in town (Su now is stuck in the third p) her father bemoaned the temperamental coffee pot and talked about how he used too many grounds. He tried again the next day, only it was too water. "What are you doing?" said mother perplexed. "Why are you questioning your coffee making abilities? You make coffee better than anyone I know." Father beamed. Somehow, strangely, it was one of the most romantic things her mother had ever said to her father, in front of her. Not sure if that is depressing or sweet...
Still. Coffee must be drinkable. If you are a coffee maker, you must fulfill your function. Su reminded the coffee maker of the narrow miss in which she almost (about should have) bought a friend's lightly used expresso machine, on sale for a song. She told the coffee maker if he didn't get his act together, she was going to get one of those old timey percolators that made the strong dark coffee, and sound like a steam engine when they are really brewing, or else go for the casual ease of a french press, which makes coffee seem as easy as brewing a cup of tea.
And so, the coffee pot really tried, and so did Su, and this afternoon out came 6 cups of absolutely perfect coffee. Perhaps it was because Su doubled the grounds, or properly cleaned the coffee pot from head to toe, or maybe it was the talk. Hard to say.
When Su's parents were in town (Su now is stuck in the third p) her father bemoaned the temperamental coffee pot and talked about how he used too many grounds. He tried again the next day, only it was too water. "What are you doing?" said mother perplexed. "Why are you questioning your coffee making abilities? You make coffee better than anyone I know." Father beamed. Somehow, strangely, it was one of the most romantic things her mother had ever said to her father, in front of her. Not sure if that is depressing or sweet...