Just after a thorough cleaning, MIL’s coffee pot began leaking water as it brewed. I joked with her and said, “Maybe it was only the corrosion holding it together.” You know how neat freaks are about water, as I said here. Me? I’d be like, “Oh, thank tacos it still makes coffee, I’ll just lay this towel down!”
She and FIL went out the other day to buy a new one. Now for me (for us) this means going into a store and finding a new coffee pot that is black (who wants to see coffee stains?) makes 12 cups (the heart wants what it wants) has a timer on it so we can wake up to the coffee (I’ll cry if I hafta make coffee in the mornin. That’s not hyperbole, y’all.) and uses the cheap wavy filters that are eighty-eight cents for five kajillion, because I cannot be runnin outta coffee filters, even though HME showed me how to use a paper towel in the event of a coffeemergency. *bites cuticles*
This is my last coffee maker, which I threw out when we moved, because it was dying and had to be fiddled with to get the coffee to brew. That is a coffeemergency, so I hadda let it go. We bought it at Target, in Atlanta, for $30. It lasted four years.
As I said here, I love coffee, I used to work at Starbucks. My order is an iced venti decaf caramel macchiato.
At home, I prefer Starbucks coffee, Sumatra being my favorite, preferably made in a press, with a bit of cream.
That’s my press, there. I’d use it a lot more, but I don’t have time to deal with cleaning the press, and waiting patiently while another cup sits for four minutes, which is why I don’t understand all the brouhaha about the cup machines that are all the rage. >Flash to me licking and sucking coffee grounds out of the last cup from the day before, while waiting for it to spit out another cup<
I make coffee as close to espresso as I can. I want the oil rings. I want it thick and bitter.
We’ve had plenty of espresso machines, but I think they have a short life span, and our next one will be some sorta imported Italian dealio, which might be too special for us, for which we might hafta build a special room, or at least an altar…
When people drink brown water, and pass it off as coffee, I feel offended.
When we got here, MIL made me my own special coffee for the first few days. As I poured the coffee into my creamer, the color was never right, and before it turned the right color, I would run out of room to pour more.
When I asked her to double the coffee amount, her big brown eyes almost fell out of her head, and she said, “Okay.”
Now The Mister usually makes our coffee. If not, MIL brews it and puts it in a carafe with a little chickadee sachet in front of it, so that I will know that’s my special decaf coffee, whose flavor could still strip wallpaper.
I hafta have decaf, because caffeine is a huge trigger for my anxiety. With decaf, I am happy and vivacious. With caffeinated coffee, I am somewhere between Hammy the Squirrel and Shelly Duvall on the other side of the door.
Imagine my amusement when MIL tells me they bought the new coffee pot, but it’s not as nice as the old one, because it’s plastic on the sides instead of stainless steel, and she really wanted a different one, because it had the stainless steel instead of plastic, but FIL didn’t like the look of its panel, and so this one they bought is the compromise, but at least it was $40-$50 cheaper.
In reality, I smiled and nodded and chuckled a little. In my head, I lolololol and lolololol and lolololol — because, I was like, “FUCK! for all that you care about the flavor of your Maxwell House
brown water coffee, and how you reheat it, you could totally buy a $15 Mr. Coffee! Or for that matter, use the money that you spent on the coffee pot and buy an enormous stainless steel container to store your instant coffee in!”
I did not say that, of course, because it’s not my money, and it’s not my
brown water coffee, and I want them to be happy, but sheesh, that’s just so..backwards to me.
Can I get anyone a cuppa?