I’m doing a series of posts on my go-to coffee equipment because it makes me particularly happy. I’m not a person who makes coffee at home on a daily, or even frequent basis. When I do, it’s often on a weekend morning, alongside a home cooked breakfast, or in the afternoon, while I’m writing a paper or reading a book. The ritual I’ve developed for making coffee is inspired by the third-wave coffee shops that I’ve come to rely on to orient me in a new city. The method I use is the pour over, which involves dripping your coffee through a filter using a kettle poured by hand (versus this all happening inside a box on your countertop). Coffee enthusiasts will point to control and precision as the major benefits of this slower, more tedious method. For me, it is that very slowness and tediousness that makes it such a relaxing and enjoyable ritual. This is most evident in the way I prepare my coffee for the pour over. Much can be found online about the benefits of buying whole bean coffee instead of ground. For a method like the pour over, where grind size really makes a difference, it’s an obvious choice for a coffee enthusiast to invest in a good grinder. The problem is that most grinders use spinning blades that grind your coffee unevenly, all but costing you the benefits of using whole bean coffee in the first place. The electric grinders that coffee shops use employ what is called a “burr,” where rotating mills ensure a consistent grind. These machines can be pricey, however, so for the coffee enthusiast on a budget, there is only one way to go: the manual (hand) burr grinder. I can admit that I purchased my hand grinder, the Hario Skerton, because I didn’t want to shell out $300+ for a fancy coffee grinder when 1) I didn’t make coffee that often and 2) I didn’t even have the counter space for it in my NYC apartment. With use, though, I have fallen in love with it. I would imagine that most people would find this item annoying to use at first; it really takes some elbow grease to grind enough beans for just one cup. But over time, I began to appreciate the work that it took in making that one cup of coffee for myself. It became part of an overall experience that felt restorative for my mind and, I guess, a form of exercise. In the end, maybe I’m just addicted to my phone and I could find meaning in any benign experience that diverted my eyes away from twitter but I value my Hario grinder, nonetheless. https://bluebottlecoffee.com/preparation-guides/pour-over
