Freshen that up for you, hon’?

Mr. Coffee passed away this morning. He left two survivors, one of whom got a cup of marginally drinkable java.

Did Monday come early?

The coffeemaker croaked before I could get my morning fix, compelling me to brew java The Cowboy Way (via pour-over into a Thermos). And our Sunday bike ride looks to be rained out.

Ah, well. They still sell slave-made coffeemakers here in the Land of the Free. And rain is good for the vegetation.

Speaking of vegetables, with any luck at all the rain will continue through tomorrow’s Two Minutes Hate, so Ginger Hitler’s Red Caps can get their bodies washed along with their brains, if any. No amount of rain could wash the dumb off they ass, though.

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28 Responses to “Freshen that up for you, hon’?”

  1. khal spencer Says:

    I still do the old fashioned way. Paper cone filter over a glass decanter. Water boiled in one of those water boiling electric pot things. None of this high tech shit.

    • Patrick O'Grady Says:

      Thing is, somebody around here (I would not say his name, but his initials are Patrick O’Grady) requires hot java mosty ricky-tick in the ayem. I pour the first cup into my eyes and the second down my gullet.

  2. Pat O'Brien Says:

    I have used a Meliita pour over thermos coffee maker for years. Water gets heated in a tea pot. Maybe I should be the one riding the 7 speed Voodoo Wazoo?

    Weapons are banned at the center. I guess the nra isn’t running that dog and pony show.

  3. Pat O'Brien Says:

    Something to brighten a rainy day with fascists coming to town and a broken coffee maker.

  4. khal spencer Says:

    Looks like someone already jumped on that Two Minute Hate idea with Orange Hitler.

  5. SAO' Says:

    Cowboy coffee ain’t cowboy coffee unless you used egg shells. I think it was supposed to help with the bitterness.

    SFC Kevin McDaniel, motor sergeant at Wild Chicken, Federal Republic of Germany, made a 50 cup silver bullet every morning by adding a tablespoon of fresh grounds to yesterday’s sludge. He only changed the grounds on pay day (end of the month, not bi-monthly like you kids do it today).

    And SFC Timothy Michael O’Hara, mess sergeant in Heilbronn (and yes, how did you know he was catholic and from Boston?) did the trick where you just mixed the grounds and hot water, plus egg shells, in a 25 gallon serving container, then dumped a pot of cold water in there, which somehow settled the grounds so you could dip a cup off the top, or some such magic. I forget exactly what he did, but it was some sort of mess daddy sorcery.

    Ran into this in the doc’s waiting room the other day:

    How a coffee shortage killed the confederacy, in Mental Floss.

    Turns out it wasn’t the substantially larger population, industrial infrastructure, or transportation assets, but coffee that determined the outcome of the Civil War.

    For those of you who want to really get down to the details at your next re-enactment, here’s a coffee recipe from The Confederate Receipt book, 1863.

    Take sound ripe acorns, wash them while in the shell, dry them, and parch until they open, take the shell off, roast with a little bacon fat, and you will have a splendid cup of coffee.

    A letter to the Tennessee Baptist in 1861 claimed that okra coffee is indistinguishable from the real thing:

    We Have Tried It.—We have been somewhat skeptical about the various substitutes that have been proposed for coffee.—We have doubted whether any thing would have the flavor of the genuine article. But, “the proof of the pudding is in the eating.” We have tried the okra coffee, and had we not known it to be okra, we should have supposed it the best of Laguyra or Java. It has all the rich spicy aroma of the genuine article, and we have no doubt, is equally nutricious [sic] and probably less injurious.
    We would advise all our friends to reserve a large space in their gardens or farms, for planting okra. It will do, and no mistake, blockade or no blockade.

  6. Herb from Michigan Says:

    French press with locally roasted beans ground by me with one eye (barely) open. The other opens when the first cup o Joe is slurped down. The coffee has to be so hot it burns the outer layer of lips off thereby keeping me with the face of an old codger but with the lips of a teenager. Must have had 10 various coffee makers over the years which consumed not only electricity but some appreciable greenbacks too. No more…stainless steel French press and please….no burnt Starbutts.

  7. khal spencer Says:

  8. SAO' Says:

    Ah, man. Ric Ocasek and Eddie Money have taken their skinny ties up to that big choral group in the sky. I was more a fan of the Benjamin Orr Cars, but Money was that guy you caught yourself singing to and then hoped no one just saw you.

  9. Hurben Says:

    Boiling water, a teaspoon of Nescafe, a splash of milk & I’m done. I’m not a coffee elitist. Too many years drinking coffee out of rat packs

  10. Patrick O'Grady Says:

    I dashed out and bought Son of Mr. Coffee, a $50 upgrade to the model that went west on us. Basically the same coffeemaker, but with an additional water filter, which can’t hurt around here, since the water is harder than the sidewalks.

    I’m not overly fussy about coffee. We use a mix of Aroma Coffee Company’s French Roast and Black Lightning, which we grind on the premises. Don’t weigh it or check its temperature unless it feels feverish. Herself adds cream and sugar but I like my coffee like I like my mood ring (black).

    Shuckens, I’ll even drink a cup of Starbucks if I have to.

  11. Larry T. atCycleItalia Says:
    Never had any taste for ‘Murican cawfee for 35 years. Still don’t. Awful stuff. But my first taste of Italian caffe was a revelation – one of those “OK, now I see why people drink this stuff” moments.
    I’m far from one of the amateur chemist/barista snobs with their $thousand dollar machines and grinders but I know a good cup from a bad one – and most of the Anglo-Saxon espresso snobs I know make crap that Italians would spit out right at the bar!

    • 44th Engineers Says:

      Stationed in Korea, the battalion’s chaplain was a catholic priest, Italian immigrant. Made espresso with a mokka pot. Someone mailed him the beans, used a cheapo PX blade grinder, bottle spring water cuz our pipes were disgusting. First real cup of coffee, had been drinking mess hall silver bullet all my life.

      You can get a good French press for under $20, mokka pot for about the same.

    • Patrick O'Grady Says:

      I can’t recall my first proper cup of coffee. Maxwell House percolator dreck growing up, cafeteria joe at college, Dunkin Donuts/diner mud as a college dropout, instant out the wazoo (Tasters Choice was “the good stuff”), bitter, rancid sludge in too many newsrooms, and occasionally some upscale canned ground shite like French Market.

      I do recall fetching my little Krups espresso maker with me on road trips in the Nineties, so at some point before then I must’ve broken my Industrial Coffee chains. Prob’ly in Santa Fe, possibly at the Downtown Subscription.

      Speaking of the velvety black goodness, Adventure Journal is taking a poll: What’s the best camp coffee?

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