As I go through the familiar process of making coffee – measuring out clean water, turning on the gas for the stove, pouring a heaping spoonful of Stumptown into a metal bowl – I notice how tense I am and consciously relax my shoulders. As the water boils and I mix it with the coffee before covering the bowl, I breathe in the scent (aromatherapy?) and focus on my negative thoughts, allowing them to pass, clearing my mind. A few minutes later I pour the coffee through a chai strainer and take my mug up to the roof.
Ten minutes earlier I had found myself sitting in the lab, staring through my computer, blinking back tears of frustration. It’s taking less and less to set me off these days. Today it was a piece of fruit. Well, the lack of a piece of fruit, really. Of course my frustration is not actually about the fruit, that’s only a representation of my sense of helplessness and inability to control key aspects of my living situation.
Fortunately, the last time I wanted coffee and there was current I had the foresight to grind all of the beans. The first time I made coffee I folded a handful of beans in newspaper and pounded them in a rock. The “grind” was not quite as fine as I like, but better than nothing. Next time I used a rolling pin to further crush the beans. This method was more successful but still required a full ten minutes of elbow grease. Luck was mine, however, when the kitchen purchased a blender. Ahh, sweet, sweet development. Thankfully, I now have French Press coffee (minus the French and the press part) readily available for those moments when I need a little coffee therapy to get me through the day.
It's funny how it's often more about the process of preparing, rather than consuming; something that relates to my love of Yerba Maté.
ReplyDeleteHot brewed coffee is ubiquitous in Colombia, but you might not like how it's prepared.