I had always assumed that, because I didn’t care for the coffee-themed milk beverages churned out by my local Starbucks, I didn’t like coffee. Last year I found that that wasn’t the case at all, and that I just needed to heed my Armenian heritage and take my coffee “hot as hell, black as night and strong as death,” as my new favorite saying goes.
I quickly discovered that the coffeemaker in our office’s shared kitchenette spewed out a beverage that can be charitably described as (to paraphrase Douglas Adams) almost, but not quite, entirely unlike coffee. So I started bringing my own in, and developed a little ritual involving a small, low-quality French press that, while turning out decent-tasting coffee, forced me to chew the last few sips.
This weekend, my girlfriend (a former barista herself) bought me my new prize possession: the Aerobie Aeropress. That’s right: Aerobie. And I think it’s safe to say that it represents the same degree of improvement over standard coffeemakers that the original Aerobie did over regular frisbees.
The big difference is the full immersion of the grounds (like a French press) and the use of air pressure (like an espresso machine, but without steam). The full immersion allows maximum extraction of flavor from the grounds, while the pressure allows for a steeping time of only 10 seconds, which keeps the coffee from getting bitter. It basically makes an espresso, which you can make into an Americano by adding hot water.
I figured it would make a good cup of coffee and all, but the hype is actually pretty right-on: the coffee it brews is flavorful and noticeably less bitter. The design is simplicity itself, and cleaning it involves practically no effort. With a hot water tap, it takes about a minute from start to finish. It’s really light–you could take it backpacking. And it’s $30.
