Release Me

The benefit of having so much effing snow, that you cant get your car out of the driveway, (good thing its going to slow down and melt tomorrow!) is that you have PLENTY of time to do shit that you would not otherwise do.

Today, I am celebrating by doing things for myself.

I started with making myself an authentic cup of french coffee. The annoyance of a weak cup of coffee is a non necessity. In the workplace, when you have an admin making the pot, you can only remind them each time they accidentally make a strong pot how much you like it. Although youd suspect they would get it, and make a strong pot each time, turns out some others like it weak so the admin does her job well by rotating. Strong sometimes, middle of the road others, and on the off occassion the consultant stops by...piss coffee. When you make coffee at home, you have the pleasure of making it just how you like it. Thats the way uh huh, uh huh, I like it, uh huh, uh huh.

My brother, while visiting me on his break from training, practiced restraint by not riding me for my automatic coffee making and coffee choice. Im so proud of him. A year ago, he would have ranted about how my coffee selection sucks. I didnt even share my secret with him. That I was waiting for my delivery from Williams Sonoma of the Bodum French Coffee Press! Miami introduced me to the strong cup of joe through cuban coffee. A little too strong and sweet for my preference, but somewhere inbetween was just right. French it was.

Today I made my first cup of french coffee. Whole, roasted, organic french coffee beans, ground fresh. Thanks to Heinens and Breville. I boiled the water in a tea pot. I prepared the french press by scooping three large rounded tablespoons of that course ground yumminess into the deep abyss of the skinny french press.

"Hello" I said as I raised the scoop to my nose, inhaling deeply.

"Goodbye" I said as I released it to the bottom of the press. When the course grinds landed at the bottom, they settled nicely, making a faint whisper sounds, almost as if they were saying..."We're home!".

The tea pot trumpeted! "Glory Be!"

I poured the steaming hot water into the french press. The grinds broke out into chorus..."Hallelujah" swimming in their hot bath.

I waited four minutes, which seemed like four hours. Impatiently allowing the grinds to brew...or stew? I lided the press and pressed down on the plunger. That simple act was so satisfying. I plunged it slow, not wanting to disturb the peace the ground has found. Not wanting to hurry the release of flavors. When the plunger reached the bottom, I poured a cup of french coffee into my New York mug. Its as close to France as Ive gotten. Topped it off with a splash of organic milk to cool it, and took my first sip.

Mi brosher, you were right. Freedom coffee is so much tastier than Folgers. Cant wait to make you a cup. Bodum, why the hell are you located in Denmark?

Effing fantastic!