Changing filter papers while Rome burns

In the latter months of that wretched year, my life fell apart. So I’m writing about coffee again.

The espresso machine was left behind. That beautiful shiny expensive silver thing that did the gorgeous bean alchemy.

Myself and my daughter are heading back to the UK.

I know.

In the meantime, while the world and our paperwork sort themselves out, me and the little one are in a new temporary apartment.

During the very worst of this, I mean the bits where I literally physically couldn’t talk about anything, a new espresso machine was the finish line. A new country, a new home, a new school and, although finances aren’t great — maybe an espresso machine.

For now, I bought a $25 Clever Dripper and hand grinder.

It didn’t quite work for me at first. Was that the famous non-muddy clean flavour? Or just weak coffee?

I tinkered. I weighed beans.

While Rome burned, I tried different filter papers.

I started to really like it.

I don’t think my tinkering changed much. I don’t really know how to appreciate it. Maybe I just really wanted to enjoy it.

Maybe I needed to.

Now I find myself avoiding coffee shops so I can save my caffeine capacity for a homemade drink.

Old-life flat whites were eagerly sipped and wondered at but I’d invariably get distracted before they were finished. Now each mug is drained.

I’m fairly sure that some of the coffee Vietnam produces is fantastic. But because there are no YouTube hipsters agreeing I can’t be sure

Am I even doing it right? The machine is a copy (Mr Clever!). Does it even work properly?

The routine. I love the routine.

• Wet filter in Clever Dripper to wash out the paper taste
• Grind 15g of coffee
• Let Clever Dripper flow into mug to warm it
• Pour 250g of boiling water into the dripper
• Add coffee. (Coffee second hipster method)
• Use back of spoon to make sure coffee is submerged
• Wait two minutes.

(I’ve started saving two-minute chores for this)

• Break the crust (AKA sink the floaty bits)
• Wait another minute
• Empty hot water out of warmed mug
• Place dripper over mug and watch it drain

This bit is glorious. If you’ve got it right, it should drain in almost exactly a minute. It’s immensely satisfying.

And then I sit in the rocking chair salvaged from the old apartment. Trying to put off starting it. Knowing it will be tastier when it cools.

When I get back to the UK, I’m hoping we can buy a little house. I’ve ditched the espresso machine idea. I want a special shelf for dripper, grinder, scales and beans.

The little one has started observing coffee time. She goes into her room or puts her headphones on.

Last week she tried to help by washing the digital scales in the sink. This week I bought some new ones.

We’re going to be okay.