Now that I've substituted going to Lifestyle Family Fitness for going for a cup of McDonald senior coffee, a once-in-a-while treat is brewing coffee at home.
For coffee like what you get at a café on the Champs-Élysées or the Piazza Navona, without ther vaunted ambiance, of course, the Bodum is eminently suited. The French press, also called a cafetiére á piston, was popularized in New York City fifteen or so years ago when my friend, Ingrid, gave me one for a gift. It's perfect for making two espresso-sized cups of meltingly strong coffee, a heady brew one quaffs by the exquisite mouthful like ambrosia!
Here I've pictured my ancient French press with a recent acquisition, a long-handled coffee measure perfect for dipping into a bag of Starbuck's pre-ground coffee. Sometimes a simple gadget like this turns a plebeian act into something like music, art for the eyes as much as for the palate.
There are many ways to live: we each must find our own way. There is, I believe, a balance between hedonistic simplicity and the overly materialistic way of the average American consumer. I try to navigate my own way between the two extremes, delighting in the tension of choice and desire.
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