There’s a simple charm to making a pot of coffee in an ordinary coffee maker.
Open the plastic lid. Scoop some unpretentious, pre-ground coffee into the basket. Fill the pot up with tap water and try not to make a huge mess when you pour it into the machine. Close the lid, press ON. Simple.
The coffee maker makes it own little small talk with you while it does its work. Sip-sip-sip-sip-shhhhh…gurgle. What magic is happening inside to pull the water up and through the coffee? Watch the steam hypnotically curl out from around the edges of the top.
Will this coffee maker make you the best cup of coffee in the world? Of course not. Coffee is an art form like anything else; there are limitless complexities and pretentions that can be added until you reach the level that makes you happy, and the still-simple charms of the French press are hard to ignore.
But for me, the coffee maker will always hold a special place in my heart: memories of cold mornings, bleary eyes, and hot cups of good-enough coffee.