Coffee smells sublime just about any way you make it. I’m mildly addicted to the substance… in polite company. In all others, I am an infusion of caffeine. When they first hit the mass markets, K-cups and those various other automated pod machines were like founts of liquid gold. Drinkable brilliance in every flavor and convenience… and then I learned of the sheer waste produced by all the leftover plastic in those. I think the knowledge hurt my soul a little bit. Those K-cups were my one true indulgence.
I couldn’t stomach those delicious but destructive cups any longer. So I stopped.
These days, to assuage the guilt, I embrace quieter ways of coffee-making. There is the path of the French press and the single drip filter, and they’ve taught me much. Of greatest immediate appeal was this: coffee still tastes wonderful–more so–I feel. There’s also a sense of satisfaction in the slowing down of the process… the ritual it has now become, of starting my mornings and ending the evenings in the moment. There is a conscientiousness to the whole business now so that it no longer feels like business.
Warm the water. Place coffee grounds into the French press. Pour the water carefully inside the carafe. Gently stir the grounds to thoroughly wet and watch a delicious foam emerge on the surface. Place the strainer inside. Wait about five minutes, more or less, based on mood. Press the strainer gently downward, savoring the pressure between water and grounds. Pour delicately into my cup and enjoy.
And I do… I enjoy.