Tales of a Coffee Geek

Crafted with care, a good cup of Joe may be the secret to a happy marriage

☕ I love a good cup of coffee as much as the next person. Who doesn’t? Okay, my husband Jeff won’t touch the stuff, not even when it’s in mocha form blended with one of his favorite foods, chocolate, or flavoring another of his delights, ice cream. But for many people, their day cannot begin without it. And there are some for whom the ritual of making it—including the devices and careful steps used to turn roasted, ground beans into a dark and magical elixir—borders on obsession.

Among that number is Peter August, who is married to my cousin Margalit. I became privy to his devotion to the process of turning out a perfect cup of Joe on a recent visit to the couple’s Bay Area home when Peter asked if I’d like him to make me a coffee like the one he crafted each morning and served his wife in bed. He made mine in their sunny kitchen while I recorded the details on my iPhone.

It turns out that Peter not only uses a hand-held espresso-type device to make the coffee—he also roasts green coffee beans in a countertop electric coffee roaster; grinds the beans in a custom-made, hand-operated burr grinder, and whisks a batch of foamy milk to float on top. But, he insisted, as he poured the hot water onto the grounds, he’s not a true geek.

“A geek would tell you much more about extraction,” he said. “And a real geek would use a timer.”

I suppose those residing in the top tier of coffee geekdom might wax rhapsodical about time, temperature, beans and grind necessary to deliver the perfect cup of coffee (the National Coffee Association has some helpful tips on the subject), but after talking to Peter about his method and tasting the results, his coffee geek credentials seem beyond reproach.

The one-to-three-cup coffee maker he uses from AeroPress, is deceptively low-tech—two translucent cylinders of plastic that fit inside of each other, with one functioning as a kind of plunger to press hot water through coffee grounds out a filtered opening at the end of the second cylinder into a cup—and voilà: coffee!

The device was dreamed up by Alan Adler, a retired Stanford engineering instructor and inventor of the Aerobie, a beloved flying ring with some similarities to the frisbee. It holds the Guinness world record for the longest throw in history—1,333 feet.

The AeroPress site claims its relatively simple hand-held device delivers coffee that’s smooth, with little bitterness and acidity—superior to coffee made via drip, pour-over (my preferred method), pod or French Press. I will say it was remarkably good, especially when mixed with foamed milk, a tincture of vanilla, cardamom and other spices (crafted by Peter and Margalit’s son Tal), and sprinkled with cinnamon and chocolate.

It was Peter’s love of strong coffee that first led him to the AeroPress—other methods just never made a brew to his liking. This technique makes “the most delicious cup of coffee that you can get without buying an expensive espresso machine,” he said. He bought his first AeroPress about 10 years ago for about $20; these days they sell in the $30 range.

Is making a delicious cup of java the secret of a happy marriage? It certainly doesn’t hurt. The couple are celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary this year, and for most of that time, Peter said, he’s been making Margalit her morning latte.

Margalit said she likes her coffee “just the way Pete makes it,” but she admits to occasionally drinking instant when he’s not around.

“But I always add a whole lot of extras,” she said.

And now their sons, Alon and Tal, both in their 20s, have followed in their father’s footsteps, making coffee for their respective mates.

“Alon got an espresso machine for his girlfriend for her birthday,” Margalit said. “He makes a really good cup of coffee now. He steams her oat milk and drizzles honey on the top.”

A portion of the garden at Margalit and Peter’s Bay Area home.

I’m sure making a fine cup of coffee isn’t the only secret to a happy marriage—Peter and Margalit are professional psychologists with great interpersonal skills, proud parents of three accomplished children, and excellent cooks. Margalit is also passionate about her garden (a trait that reminds me of her late mother, my Aunt Gerda). But there’s a certain magic in the ritual of coffee making that binds people together and never gets old.

“It’s kind of like cooking,” Margalit said. “It’s familiar, it’s a process, and then you have this thing that’s comforting.”

After watching Peter make coffee, a friend told him that the multi-step process reminded him of a Japanese tea ceremony.

“To make one cup of coffee there are like 5 or 6 steps. It takes 5 minutes per cup,” Peter said, and he puts thought into each step.

He stirs the coffee, but not too many times. When he pushes the plunger into the coffee grounds and hot water to extract the liquid, he avoids bending his shoulders, which he says would be bad yoga.

“I picture the Earth sucking my feet and pulling my whole body to to Earth,” he said.

“And you’re not a geek?” I asked.

“I don’t think this is geek-ness. I don’t know what it is.”

“Pete-ness?”

“Yes, Pete-ness.”

Portrait of my cousin Margalit with her mother Gerda Mathan and daughter Siona.

Whatever it is, the result is delightful. I’m tempted to order one of these devices, but I will probably stick with my trusty pour-over Hario single-serve drip method, at least for now.

“I think pour-over coffee sounds super cool too,” Peter said diplomatically. “It’s its own tea ceremony. I think the only thing I would say is do something that you enjoy doing. Do something that you can pay attention to because that’s what it’s about.”

I think he’s right. Slow down and pay attention. And make sure to take time to smell the coffee—and drink some too!

My single-cup pour-over coffee maker.

What device do you use to make your coffee—or does somebody make it for you? Please let me know in comments or via email. And thanks for reading this edition of Ruth Talks Food. Please become a subscriber if you aren’t already. See you next time!