Well, I couldn’t find a new coffee machine that was lacking in that other bugbear of mine, BPA, so I went for the traditional percolator. But, on the same shelf….
….. was this bad boy!
Some years ago now, we were treated to a traditional indian curry, by a friend of ours, who regaled us with tales of the acting world and how she was fed up with being typecast, only getting parts as a little Indian woman, then informing us of her next part, playing…. an little Indian woman!
Anyway, I digress, the curry was magnificent, a receipe handed down from her grandmother, as it always seems to be, no forks, all fingers,…. but then she took me into the kitchen to show me her “coffee maker”, a Bialetti.
It was the first time I’d actually had an espresso (I was wet behind the ears, what can I say…..) and was knocked off my feet when I took my first sip.
So, it was with fond memories, I reached for the box…. made in Italy too! No idea why it’s taken me so long to get round to purchasing my own one. She’d give me a right ticking off if I told her.
Now, all we have to do is get the “formula” right and we’ll be away. The good thing too, is this ain’t no ‘lectric dependent gadget, so we can take it on the next camp trip. How very cultured, eh! After a good nights kip, under the stars, getting the first coffee buzz of the day with a campstove espresso. Can’t wait.
On that note, I’ll leave you with the wisdom of a work colleague of the Missus…..
Life is too short for bad coffee and dreadful wine.
Must dash, the 2nd espresso of the afternoon is ready to be poured!