I love coffee. Not in a coffee press, slow-roasted, organic coffee bean sort of way, although I appreciate all of those things. No, I love coffee in such a way that is more about the caffeine content than the flavor. Don’t get me wrong; I won’t tolerate bad coffee. Instant coffee is useless (unless using it for baking) and most cheap brands earn a nose crinkle from me on a taste test.
I was raised using a coffee press. My mom maintained the coffee was better. I think she was right, but I’m not that much of a coffee connoisseur. I don’t use one; it’s too much work for me. I use a cheap-o, regular automatic, drip coffee maker. Why? I can set a timer. I wake up in the morning to that sweet, pungent smell of freshly brewed coffee and in those wee hours of the dawn that smell, coupled with the quiet of the house before it awakens, is sheer heaven on earth.
All coffee lovers need this, a milk frother.
Adding about a third to a half of a cup of foamy milk, after it’s been heated in the microwave, is as close to Starbucks as you’ll get at home. The milk ends up quite stiff and frothy and it mixes with the coffee so perfectly that the first sip is always a reminder of how perfect, or close to perfect, an excellent cup of coffee can taste.