Its still quiet. No one is up. I’m having a cup of java, freshly pressed. I have found the simplicity of a french press fits with a slow relaxing cup of coffee much more than the fully automated, timer based, built in grinder, so on and so forth, machine I’ve been using.
The point of coffee is to be still. Because it is hot it cannot be gulped. It is a pause in life. So should the making of coffee be. And so it is with a press. The whistle of a kettle of water coming to boil. The simple mixing of coffee in the hot water and the seperation of the grounds from the liquid by your own physical action.
I have fallen in love with the French Press.