I fell off the wagon again today.
See, I have this love-hate thing going on with coffee. I don’t trust it. I want it too much to trust it. But more than that, I regard coffee as one of the reasons why, last August, my mom’s breast cancer (now cured) grew so amazingly and secretively fast. Some cancers, apparently, like the acidic and adrenaline-pumped environment that coffee creates in the body, and it just so happens that my otherwise very healthy mother had been downing wayyyyy too many lattes in the period before her huge lump was suddenly discovered. Who knows what actually caused it…but until we find out, everything’s a suspect.
At any rate, since being in Eilat, I’ve ignored my desire for an iced-cold, milky iced coffee. We're on a budget, so I've considered it a pleasure purchase that's not worth the extra money—I don’t need it, and maybe it’s bad for me.
But I’ve missed it. On these burning hot mornings, I’ve pined for it.
And so, when John’s coworker told me that the packages of coffee sitting on his shelves were useless to him, I pounced. They were free. This is how I operate.
|Oh--and let's not forget about how we sometimes spill entire|
jars of honey...how the hell am I supposed to clean this up?
Tell me, Gods of Domestication, what is this connection between cleaning my kitchen and completely/unstoppably demolishing it soon afterwards?
On every occasion that I have thrown on the rubber gloves, gotten on hands and knees, and scrubbed down our tiny kitchen, within 24 hours (a) a container of something juicy and probably stain-inducing falls out of the fridge, (b) the sink leaks and unknowing footprints soon cover the ground (c) the [insert vegetable here] I’ve been chopping decides that the floor is a more attractive cutting board than the wooden plank beneath my hands, or (d) my iced coffee experiment explodes and covers everything, somehow, within a 3 foot radius.
Today, we went with…Drumroll please!
Option D! D is the winner!!
It’s like I am half puppy. Like demolition is in my blood.
I know that there is a way to operate in the kitchen in a neat and orderly fashion.
Generally my failings are so amazing and pathetic that I have to laugh. It’s like starring in my own comedy in which I am the only actor and the only audience member. Only your faithful Chowgypsy can soil an entire kitchen with the small endeavor of trying to enjoy a simple glass of cold-pressed coffee.
But enjoy it I did.
I’ll get to the cleaning later.
Cold Brew Iced Coffee
I adapted this method from America’s Test Kitchen because we don’t have a coffee making apparatus. I am extremely pleased with the results—it’s the perfect iced coffee. And for the record, this stuff is strong. The ratio is 1:4, so alter this as you see fit.
· 4 cups water
· 1 cup ground coffee
· 1 tsp cinnamon*
· 1-2 tsp cocoa powder*
*these are optional, but if you usually like these ingredients, try it out
Pour your water on top of the dry ingredients. Give it a stir or two—don't get crazy.
Cover, place in fridge, and let rest 8-24 hours. When finished, strain with cheesecloth, coffee filter, socks…whatever. Just do it carefully, because if you’re like me, this is where the mess can begin.
When ready to drink, dilute with water and milk, remembering that your cold-brew coffee is a concentrate, so start low and add your diluters to your liking.
You can also try adding a pinch of salt…but I’m as yet undecided on that front.
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