Monday, April 30, 2012

Jug, jug

I was in turn amused, amazed &, almost, appalled by a small but telling incident early in Before the Poison, the latest novel by Peter Robinson.

The hero - not Inspector Banks, but a widowed 60-year old who, after several decades earning a comfortable living as a composer of film music in California, has returned to his roots in Gods Own County - wakes up in the remote but sizable house he has bought, together with its contents, to find that the kitchen contains no coffee-maker, ‘not even a simple Melitta filter or Bodum cafetiere’

He tries to improvise by pouring hot water through a piece of kitchen towel (which held the ground coffee), stretched over a cup; the result tasted ‘a bit like metallic dishwater’ but was better than nothing for one who cannot function until he has had his morning fix..

Goodness, are we all in such thrall to gadgets & the magical dark arts of the barista that nobody remembers the simple traditional way of making coffee in a jug?

Better than dishwater, even if not strong enough for the compulsions of the sophisticated addict.

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