My Coffee Thing
In my late twenties, I discovered French press coffee. I don’t know exactly when or how, but it became a sort of obsession with me. Regular perked coffee, are you kidding me? That was for the uninitiated. I was a coffee connoisseur. I used what I thought were the best coffee beans; whole bean organic, hand roasted at a local coffee specialty shop. When prepping my coffee at home, I would boil spring water, measure out and carefully grind my beans in my coffee grinder, pour the grinds which were not too fine into the clear glass and stainless steel French press, add one inch of hot water, wait one minute, fill the pot with within one inch of the top, wait six minutes, then press. Back then I drank my coffee with heavy cream, slightly warmed, with two teaspoons of organic granulated sugar. Ahhh, it was heavenly.
Fast forward more years later, I’m 60 now. My automatic drip coffee pot sits on the counter top in my kitchen. I hit the button as I round the corner in the kitchen; I had set the pot up before I went to bed at night. As I popped the toast out of the toaster, the scent of coffee filled the room. I'd fill my travel cup with coffee, add half and half and off I'd go on my day.
Lately, I have become obsessed with those single cup coffee brewers. Somebody bought one for the lounge at work, and I started using it. Surprisingly, the coffee was rather good. Now I want one for home. I want it in my bedroom. I want to be able to reach out of my bed, hit the button, and smell the coffee as it drips into my waiting cup. This is my current ultimate luxury fantasy.
So at 5 a.m. on one of those cold New England mornings when I could not sleep, I searched the Internet for my dream, and I found it, at the price I was willing to pay, in a nice blue that would complement the décor in my bedroom. It has not arrived yet, but ohhh, the anticipation. I’ll wake up, hit the bottom on the machine on my way to the bath, smell the coffee while I do my morning fresher upper, and go back and grab my cup of coffee before I snuggle back into the folds of my comfy flannel sheets.
Marilynn S. Turner is an Associate Professor of English at Asnuntuck Community College in Enfield, Connecticut, where she teaches writing.
This piece was first posted in January 2014