She’s From Toronto

Contributed by Matthew Hartwell on 26/02/09

I wanted a French Press. It’s classier. You put in the coffee grounds (after grinding them yourself from single origin beans, I mean) and add hot water, pre-boiling. Stir with a plastic spoon to avoid cracking the borosilicate glass. Replace lid. Let sit for a few minutes. Depress plunger with the weight of your right hand. If we were impatient, we could each lend a hand to the process. It doesn’t have to mean anything. We just both like coffee.

It requires ritual. Like pouring a perfect pint, or smoking a cigar. People take shortcuts, and it leads to a lesser appreciation of the act and product. Soon thereafter, civilization falls, as flames spread and gibbering idiots take over.

When I was a kid, we used to go camping. The last time I slept under the open stars was Ryan’s graduation party. There was room inside, I’m sure. He always had a comfortable couch, but I laid down out on the grass and fell asleep talking to a girl with short brown hair. It rained that night. Sometimes I wonder what her college roommate looked like, and whether she has since bought the same albums I have.

When we went camping, we used a percolator. You boil the water on an open flame, and it percolates into the coffee, and brews. The only problem is that coffee releases its flavors a good number of degrees under boiling. At boiling temperature, it releases a slew of bitter chemicals. Camp coffee tastes like it’s been stabbed and left to die in the woods. The bottom of the pot looks clotted.

Some people like that. Some people like to sleep out in the cold for no real reason. These people are usually one and the same, and not to be trusted. I have a down comforter, and you should really feel it. Not what I’m implying. Not that I’m implying it. What I mean is, if you came over, to watch a movie or something, I would encourage you to wrap up in it. I run the air pretty cold in the apartment. Gives me a reason to wrap up in the comforter.

When you use the French Press, you decide how much to brew. It claims to be eight cups, but it fills my jumbo travel mug perfectly to the brim. Easily a good amount for two people. My roommate is usually gone for work by the time I’m up, so I drink the remainder of the day’s. Seems fair. There are under-caffeinated people in office buildings the world over.

I’m really tired of only hugging people at hello and goodbye.