A Farewell to Drips

And goodbye to the explosions, cracked carafes, faulty timers and other impediments to gracious living typical of the automatic drip coffee maker.

I got an electric percolator from Cuisinart. yeah, I know, lah-de-dah, but I have a food processor/blender and a coffee grinder from them and neither one has ever given the slightest trouble.

This thing works like a dream. I set it up the night before. Yes, yes, I realize the beans must be kept at a steady 54 degrees with 87 percent humidity and Guatemalan nose flute music playing to keep the chi of the beans intact, and the beans must be ground just before making the coffee, etc.

But what Postmodern Coffee Fiend Dogma fails to take into account is my personal morning fog. (See that phiz in the photo? The look of utter cluelessness?)





I am very clumsy in the morning. I drop things. I break things. I misplace things. I put my underwear in the refrigerator, and my wallet in the bathroom cabinet.

Until I am caffeinated and nicotined, and have had a chance to contemplate the world a bit, I cannot function — much less perform the relatively complex chore of grinding coffee and setting up the gizmo.

Dean's Beans is one of these outfits that coffee snobs go on about. A 12-oz. bag is a hearty $8 at the local grocery store, which generally takes it out of my range.

But online Dean's various Beans sell for a far more reasonable $7 per pound, or even cheaper if you buy huge bags. (That's one for you adrenaline heads.)

I don't know what this has to do with Ahab, or Melville, or Moby-Dick, but it's damn tasty and has a good kick, no question.