Coffee Maker Memories
Weird how this kind of material percolates to the top of the brain, unbiden thoughts that surface after so many years dormant.
Coffee Maker Memories
The first part is two-fold, and previously, I’ve written it elsewhere, I think. It was either a ‘Tom Thumb’ or Safeway, but I think, ‘Tom Thumb.’ It was 8-O’Clock coffee, the red bag, whole bean. We’d stand at the grinder in the store, part of my earliest coffee rituals.
The second part of that earliest memory? A Chemex coffee carafe, on a gas stove, the littlest burner blue, not exactly the best coffee etiquette – but certainly serviceable.
My father was an engineer, and the story behind the design of Chemex is about engineers attempting to brew better coffee. Engineering ties it together.
For the last decade or more, I’ve used French Press as a primary coffee extraction system. Morning ritual.
Recently, I’ve been using “Jet Fuel” branded coffee, and it blooms rather well. Not always even, but that bloom reminded me of a Melitta pour-over, one of those strange images, I can’t remember her name, but I do recall making the morning coffee. Didn’t last long, but it did anchor itself as a memory.
Coffee Maker Memories
Those are the memories, piecemeal that it might be, but the Chemex is back. The other weekend, online, and then, in a store, I found one. It’s a new spin, but watching the coffee bloom when the hot water hit it kept bringing up the idea of a change.
Pretty sure the real secret to the Chemex is their propriatry filters.
Just a guess.
#CoffeePorn
