I grew up drinking coffee. All the grownups drank coffee. When we went out to dinner, I’d be held hostage at the table as all the grownups chatted and had coffee. Sit still, be good, we’re almost finished. SIGH. I think I learned to drink coffee just to have something to do.
For a long time, I drank a LOT of coffee. I’d make a pot of coffee and drink it all day, and the pot would stay on and give the coffee that over-baked flavor (because this was before microwaves.) I’d go out to eat with my friends and sit around and drink coffee, I wasn’t picky. Diner coffee was a staple. Drinking coffee became a defining “adult” thing to do, as I’m not really ‘good’ at drinking alcohol, and I never saw the point of smoking cigarettes that don’t even give me a buzz.
I quit coffee several times and experienced the withdrawal symptoms that come with a nasty drug addiction. I would quit for awhile, get through the nasty bits, but finally decided that drinking coffee still made me happy. Eventually, I decided to only drink good coffee in moderation.
It’s a good tradeoff. One perfect cup. No headache from lack of caffeine. No twitchiness and stomachaches from too much coffee.
I finally learned the name for the style of coffee I prefer. Apparently, I mostly drink pour over coffee. Here’s a blog about it, no need to re-write it because they sum it nicely. I grind my beans, sumatran mandheling preferably, use a Melita coffee cone & a filter, pour hot water over it and, voila! It’s coffee, right there in my cup.
I have a lovely french press that I use when I have a small crowd, but it’s a pain to clean. I have a good old coffee pot that I use for those who like plain coffee that you can see through. (Why drink over-baked, translucent coffee, I ask?) Please don’t offer me instant coffee, unless you just like to see the face I make. Mostly, when it’s just for me, I use my cone and it’s perfect every time, and there’s no leftovers to drink up later. Just the one perfect cup.
It doesn’t require special coffee pods, no expensive equipment, and there’s really no special technique to it, regardless of what the barista may say. You pour hot water over ground beans, carefully, so you don’t slop it over the side and burn yourself, or worse, get grounds in my coffee.