Coffee

I recalled, today, my grandmother’s coffee. At the time I hated coffee and drank only tea so I cannot answer to taste, but I can certainly tell the tales. In particular, her insistence on the strength. The standing joke of the family was that it wasn’t done till you could call it and it’d come to the cup on its own.

I recall when the kids (my father and his siblings) bought her one of those new-fangled drip coffeemakers. She finally got it to make decent coffee – not great, but decent – she told them. She’d add almost twice the grounds recommended and start the brew. Then she’d run the brewed coffee through again. That second-pass batch was about right for her.

It came to mind as I was making coffee this morning. Now, I don’t use a drip or a percolator. I have a drip basket in which I put coffee and grounds. However, I heat the water separately (just short of boiling) and pour it through the grounds. Recently I’ve taken to doing this twice – you see why, don’t you?

Oh, by the way – I make one coffee cup at a time this way. The nice thing is that every cup is fresh. I just have to wait a bit longer for each cup, that nobody else wants to drink because it’s so strong (grin).

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