July 1st, 2009
I have recently discovered the heavenly delight of French pressed coffee. It's simplicity is only striking because of it's rich flavor and deliciously smooth krema that give it the mouthfeel of good quality espresso. Of course, I drench mine in cream and raw sugar until it drips with the decadence only a housewife in her pajamas, savoring the early morning solitude before her children awake, can truly apreciate.
The contrast of this seemingly uppercrust drink against the pathetically average appearance of me at my desk in my raggy gray Renaissance Festival t-shirt and faded black yoga pants is what makes it the perfect morning drink by which to type my thoughts, my memoirs if you will.
My life is full of contradictions, of false facades, of expectations that blossomed but never fruited, like an apricot tree left abandoned in the backyard of a nice comfortable home in a middle class neighborhood. The family thought it was a dying peach tree with puny and dry fruit. They didn't know it was an apricot tree, nor did they have the time or ambition to study and nurture the tree, so they let the apricots fall to the ground and rot.
I sigh in honor of French pressed coffee, a good heavy mug from which to drink it, the pungent, sweet smell of overripe fruit, and peaceful morning solitude.
I have recently discovered the heavenly delight of French pressed coffee. It's simplicity is only striking because of it's rich flavor and deliciously smooth krema that give it the mouthfeel of good quality espresso. Of course, I drench mine in cream and raw sugar until it drips with the decadence only a housewife in her pajamas, savoring the early morning solitude before her children awake, can truly apreciate.
The contrast of this seemingly uppercrust drink against the pathetically average appearance of me at my desk in my raggy gray Renaissance Festival t-shirt and faded black yoga pants is what makes it the perfect morning drink by which to type my thoughts, my memoirs if you will.
My life is full of contradictions, of false facades, of expectations that blossomed but never fruited, like an apricot tree left abandoned in the backyard of a nice comfortable home in a middle class neighborhood. The family thought it was a dying peach tree with puny and dry fruit. They didn't know it was an apricot tree, nor did they have the time or ambition to study and nurture the tree, so they let the apricots fall to the ground and rot.
I sigh in honor of French pressed coffee, a good heavy mug from which to drink it, the pungent, sweet smell of overripe fruit, and peaceful morning solitude.
French Press Coffee Recipe:
A French Press Coffee Maker
Two Scoops Medium-Coarse Ground Coffee
Hot Water
Cream, Sugar, and Whipped Cream Optional
You can purchase a French Press at places like Target or Bed Bath and Beyond. It isn't important where it is purchased, but what is important to think about is the size that you purchase. I like to use the single-serving, smallest press, because to me it is more personal. This cup of coffee is not to be shared, it's like a private love-affair with my dark, hot, and smooth beloved. Nothing left for visitors, to be consumed thirstily in one sitting.
So drop your two scoops into the press. Boil a pot of water. You could conceivably use the microwave or instant hot water from your high-tech sink for this, but I prefer the ritual of the tea-pot... it feels ancient and profound. When your water boils, pour it over the grounds and let it steep for four agonizing minutes. Then, get ready.... place the top on the press and very slowly press the grounds to the bottom, watching the curly krema swirl to the surface.
Pour the drink into your favorite mug. Drink black (as my soul), or add cream and sugar. For extra indulgence, as if you need more... add a spoon full of pre-whipped heavy cream to the top and watch it melt into a perfect latte froth.
Savor this affair alonside a toasted Enlish muffin topped with marscapone or cream cheese and apricot preserves, just to remind you of reality and bring a little earthly sustenence to your morning.
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