Oh I do loves me some strong coffee. In America, we used to have this amazing machine that giveth some perfect espresso every morning. It’s gone now as are my yuppie years (and we ponder what an aging yuppie will become. A “Guppie”, geriatric-urban-professional? A “Muppie”, maturing-urban-professional? ). As we settle into peasant farming life, you really must arrange your caffeine consumption to match your economical means with your palette. After much research involving (close your eyes Michael) instant coffee, stovetop espresso, “French” press and drip machine among other crazy concoctions, we settled on this combination:
– drip coffee machine
– cheapest Arabica “doux” you can find
There is a very cheap “robusta” you can buy, but WOO BOY, don’t go there. Bitter. Yuck. Doux (pronounced “doo” and if it’s cheap you call it “disco doo”) is the entry point to great coffee. I picked up the cheapest filter coffee pot I could find and here are the problems:
– horrible fill trough
– small heating plate, coffee gets cold
– only makes ten cups. If you have four kids and herd of cattle, you need a lot of coffee. More than ten cups.
So I bought Starbuck. She was a tall, orange, drink-a-water with a horrible logo. We popped a little mermaid sticker that Lucy had laying around to cover her brand. Knowing her coffee would never achieve coffee mogul-dom, we called her Starbuck. Her fill trough stills sucks, but oh she made the coffee fast, kept it warm and delivered a stellar cup every morning two pots at a time. At one point, we didn’t trust her. In haste, we replaced her with a crap filter machine and stuck her out in the rain. The replacement turned out to be a cheap weekend fling. With apologetic wipes and a used replacement carafe, we brought Starbuck back in to fulfill the job she was built to do. And she delivered. I cleaned her every Sunday. But this Monday was different. She didn’t complete her brew. She pooped out. She became fatiguée. After four cups she stopped. I tried to revive her with all I knew how. Silence. She was gone.
R.I.P. Starbuck. We laughed. We cried. We kissed twenty bucks good-bye.
… and with good YouTubeWars ammunition, we solute you with this … if you can replace “red” with “orange” it’ll all fall into place