Or, how old friends become reacquainted again.
Last century, 1991.
Early 20-something single female living solo for the first
time.
Her own TV, her own front door key, her own washing machine,
her own stereo…
Her own fridge.
Contents of fridge owned by early 20-something single female
living solo for the first time (in order of then importance):
- Chanel nail varnishes lined up in the butter compartment,
- coffee beans in the freezer,
- the current opened tin of cat food (neatly cling-wrapped) on the top shelf,
- a bottle of flat Diet-Coke languishing in the door bracket,
- a bag of pitted prunes.
Maybe, if early 20-something single female had been ‘grocery
shopping’, some eggs.
(I was partial to a soft-boiled egg then, and remain so now).
The day would begin with my morning coffee ritual, the
whizzing of the coffee beans, the heating of water, pre-heating the coffee
pot. The readying of the coffee cup.
My morning coffee was made in my Grandmother Helena’s coffee filter
contraption and I used a coffee cup I had purchased on sale at David Jones
whilst a Uni student (still a splurge at the time on a student budget). The
weight of it and the feel of the cup in my hand as I brought it to my lips
always pleased me, as did the shape of the saucer, which was curvaceous enough
to accommodate the occasional spill as one perambulated down the hall coffee
cup in hand to dress for work.
Like many other young people, I overdid it on the
caffeine jag, imbibing coffee on waking, on arriving at work, all morning at my
desk, at lunch, after lunch, and just before leaving the office. Completely jazzed
on caffeine. From morning ‘til night.
The headaches began and after some time I made the
connection. Farewell my love, you are
hurting me. And so caffeine and I parted
ways barring the occasional flirt with after-dinner short blacks in
restaurants. My daily coffee ritual
faded from my routine. Grandma Helena’s
coffee contraption was packed up into storage and the coffee cup and its saucer companion floated about
in a seemingly purposeless existence on the cup shelf in the kitchen (too small
for tea, the cup ended up presenting perfect half-domes of plated up rice and
the saucer probably did service as the cat’s biscuit bowl for some time).
I didn’t miss the caffeine and the comforting ritual of
laying out breakfast coffee items was replaced with the paraphernalia relating to the
making of tea. For 20 years I have drunk
tea. English Breakfast Tea, Earl Grey
Tea, Lady Grey Tea, Russian Caravan Tea.
Orange Pekoe Tea; I loved tea. It
was the perfect beverage able to be savoured morning, noon and night… You always felt better after a cup of tea.
Then all of a sudden, I couldn’t bear the thought of another
cup of tea.
Just. Like. That.
No more tea for me.
And so the Mistress of Zip, the Madam of Zap has been quietly
entering my life again. My old friends; my Grandmother Helena’s coffee contraption
and my old coffee cup have made a triumphant return to my daily morning ritual.
Grandma’s coffee contraption makes the loveliest cup of
homemade coffee, the finished product is surprisingly grain-less, the crosshatched
porcelain in the base of the filter is very effective. I would love to know more about this coffee
pot and filter, was it the Bodum of
its day? Grandma escaped Russia in 1913
and lived in Germany until after WWII when she immigrated to Australia. I suspect this coffee pot and filter is of
German origin. Can anyone help?
Happy days!
Lara-Jane.
PS. Over two decades
have passed since 1991 and I now share a fridge with a man and a child. The 2014 fridge contains the makings of
meals; vegetables, meats, sauces. The
nail varnishes in the butter compartment have been replaced with a tube of
‘age-defying, wrinkle-reducing’ eye cream. And butter, of course.
PPS. Here is a link to a site where you can purchase something very similar to my coffee brewer, (thank you an old friend, Michael, for finding this! The video on the site is also very informative).
Click here to take you to the Walkure Karlsbad Porcelain Pour Over Brewer
From top LHS clockwise; the underside of the lid, the filter with crosshatching and the top filter where hot water is added. |