Noel bought himself a coffee roaster. I wish I could ridicule this as a useless toy, but he actually drinks enough coffee to make it a useful item. With it he bought a selection of green coffee beans to roast in small batches (for the perfect, perfectly fresh cup of coffee). It seemed like a good idea at the time, and I even went to the warehouse today to pick everything up for him.
Except the house is filled with smoke now. Coffeeish smelling smoke, kind of like the smell of burnt coffee at a diner where they just keep adding more fresh coffee to the pot, which has developed a black rind on the bottom. This smoke is apparently one of the byproducts of the roaster. It seems that Noel left the back door open while roasting, and the persistent sea breeze across the bay and through our back yard pushed all the smoke from the kitchen through the dining room, down the hall, up the stairs, and into the accordion room where I was attempting to gesso a board.
He also bought a coffee grinder, and I have been informed that there will be a lot of test grinds before he finds just the right one to run through The Machine. In the meantime, where's my dinner?
Did Noel read John Thorne's essay before he tried this? There's a reason I haven't tried it myself.
Burr grinder, I presume.
Burr grinder, definitely. It was three years of oohing and aahing over catalogs before he bought this stuff, so I'm sure he's read the essay. Actually, it seemed quite easy; the roasting part came out well, and the only catch now is finding the perfect grind, which has to be done by trial and error.
I heard grinding sounds last night, then he came up with a big smile and said, "I just made Turkish coffee grounds at home" as if that were the best thing in the world.
I think it's cuuuuuuute.