I am a simple creature, and nowhere is this more evident than in my coffee.
Now, I love coffee, but I am not really a snob about it. Years ago, I worked at a company where our coffee pot was one of those big 50 cup urns. The sludge that came from that monster looked like the La Brea Tar Pits.
I drank 5-6 cups a day of that crap.
These days, my stomach can only handle one cup a day, so I have to make it count. (One of the many 'perks' of aging.) Store-bought coffee of any type just wont do it.
And, seriously, what is up with these $100 machines that yield, what is essentially, a cup of instant coffee?
It's weird!
I have had a French Press for several years. It was a Valentine from my true love, because he knows I'm not a flowers and chocolate kinda girl.
The French Press is coffee-making at its most old-school.
Boil water.
Grind coffee.
Pour boiled water over ground coffee.
Wait 4 minutes.
Press.
Coffee.
It used to be, finding fresh, whole-bean coffee was the most difficult part of this process, but, as with so many other food issues in my life, Fresh and Easy solved that one for me. San Francisco Gourmet, in a two-pound bag. It is always fresh and still reasonably priced.
Usually, I add a dollop of half and half to my coffee, but occasionally I enjoy it black, savoring the smoothness going down, with the slight bitterness of the aftertaste.
Nothing irritates me more than someone who claims to love coffee, and then desecrates it with powdered cream, sugar, or worse, those flavored creamers.
There's an old saying, "If you wanted a cup of cream and sugar, why'd you ask for coffee?"
Whoever said that is my hero!
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