A watched pot never explodes

Frequently, as you know, I make my coffee the night before. That way, there is very little room for error in the uncaffeinated morning. But because I’m human, and therefore essentially lazy, most weekends I just leave it til morning and enjoy the evening with one less chore to do before bed.

This week I’ve been on weekend mode since Wednesday, since we’re off work for New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Without having to get up and go to the office I lose track of days fast. Right now it could be Monday afternoon for all I know.

So whatever morning it is right now, I got up and staggered to the kitchen to make a hot delicious pot of coffee. The coffeemaker of choice was manufactured by Gevalia, one of approximately 23,471 of these things I’ve had over the last 10 years or so. If you’re unfamiliar with the company, you are apparently impervious to advertising. Sign up for their coffee-by-mail service and they’ll send you a free coffeemaker. Or thermos. Or coffee cups. Or some other enticing coffee-related thing.

The coffee is of course delicious, but about $95 a pound, and after a few months you come to your senses and cancel the whole thing. Only to repeat it six months later when they offer another coffeepot, somewhat more interesting than the other 19 you’ve got stacked around the house, so you sign up again.

Tras and I, separately, before marrying, were equally like moths drawn to the free coffeepot flame, so there are years and years of Gevalia-related experiences between us.

So anyway back to this morning. Rather than use the Krups coffemaker I’ve got on the bathroom sink for normal, barely sentient workday mornings, I staggered to the kitchen to make the coffee there. So as not to disturb the sleeping beauties still cuddled abed, you understand.

There I was met by the Current Gevalia Model. I greeted it with a mixture of deep longing and pure irritation. Last week, ya see, Tras made a pot of coffee in it, and the thing exploded all over the countertop, causing me to issue one of my rare Edicts, which was Tras You Are No Longer Allowed to Use this Coffeepot.

I don’t know what this thing does, but somehow in the brewing process, either the paper filter fails or some other mysterious basket-related trauma occurs, but the end result is you’ve got coffee, wet grounds and water all over your countertop — and no coffee.

Somewhat sooner rather than later, my edict came back and bit me in the ass, and whatever mysterious thing I either did or failed to do occurred and yesterday morning I was greeted with the same disaster all over the counter.

Not this morning, I vowed, sounding rather like a movie announcer.

In a world where the procurement of excellent morning coffee is just a dream — ONE WOMAN dares to achieve the Perfect Pot.

And so I stood, shivering violently in the predawn light (OK, it had been light for two hours) watching the damn thing to ensure it didn’t explode all over the place. Waiting for one misstep, one Juan Valdesian error that I alone could correct and cause happiness and caffeine to freely flow through my body this lovely Thursday morning, or whatever it is.

Of course, nothing. No explosion. No insurrections. No 1980s style action movie disaster to combat. I remain clueless as to what, exactly, causes these Gevalia pots to revolt — but only when no one is looking.

Perhaps one day — In a world where humanity has freed itself from the lure of free coffeemakers — One Woman will know.

2 thoughts on “A watched pot never explodes

  1. Oh you must get a Keurig Coffee Brewer…it makes one PERFECT cup of coffee at a time and you can adjust the size you want. The have a website. It is amazing. I CANNOT and WILL NOT live without my Keurig. You will never go back to a coffee maker. Ree at PW has a great blog about hers. Love your tips. Thanks!

  2. One perfect cup? Like that would be enough to power me for more than 6 minutes. I need volume, woman! ;o)

    Seriously, I have heard great things about Keurig. But I guess there’s a lot I’ll put up with for a free coffeemaker.

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