Thursday, 18 March 2010
My coffee percolator has been with me a while now, and I percolate frantically, some say i'll go blind. I have a routine of pulling it down from the shelf and loading it up with some fine ground coffee to lift me from my haze. It's a partnership, one that works well I find. Although, recently I found myself questioning our relationship. We had been to Steamer Trading, not me and the percolator but my wife and I, and dazzled by the lights and shiny chrome of the coffee machines I found myself in doubt as regards to the performance and quality of my faithful little coffee pot. Feeling a little like I had just parked my old Vauxhall Nova next to a Bentley, I started to think up ways in which I could justify the price tag which is always a little tricky when you are the only one at home who drinks the stuff. The possibilities I was shown and told were endless. Well not entirely endless at all really but it seemed a lot more dynamic and diverse than my hob-top compadre. Was there a way I could somehow create the extra work top space for the machine? Ideas of it on my bedside table and in the spare room quickly dissipated.
As I left the shop and began my walk home, feeling a little giddy from the two espresso's and the macchiato, I stopped off to buy a tin of illy. Back in the flat I reached up for the metal percolator that I keep on the shelf above the door and loaded him up before whacking it on the hob on the absolute lowest setting and waited. In the store, knocking up an espresso took no time at all. But now, sat at the kitchen table I shamelessly flicked through Glamour and Marie-Claire as I waited. As I finished looking at the feature on peep-toe Louboutins the gentle music of my kitchen came to life with the phlak, phlak sound as the last few splashes of coffee percolated up and into the top chamber. The thought of hanging up my percolator just doesn't seem right at the moment. It's only small and nestles neatly on the shelf by the pasta and whilst waiting for my coffee might take longer, the equivalent to a browse of "Award Ceremony Dresses" and a feature on handbags, slow coffee tastes better. Anyway, you're bound to earn extra brownie points when you appear to know your peep-toe from your sling-back. Well that's what I keep telling myself anyway.