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Hi! It's been rather a busy few months. Ted and I were on the road from late November until New Year's: first in Austin, then to New York City for several weeks, and finally for a dramatic xmas visit to the in-laws in Massachusetts.
( The tale unfolds... )
( The tale unfolds... )
- Location:Tucson
- Mood:
cheerful
Just days after my recent triumphant find of a 1940s O'Keefe & Merritt stove on Craigslist, I found another treasure there... espresso-making equipment. And not just any equipment, but rather what I knew to be Ted's dream lineup of caffeine-enabling devices: the Pasquini Livia 90 Espresso Machine (normally $1379) and the Mazzer Mini Grinder (normally $429).
How much would you pay? Before you answer, we'll also throw in the Hottop Coffee Roaster, normally priced at $560. Now how much would you pay?
Well, the price for the lot of them was less than the new cost of the grinder, and the seller also threw in a bunch of replacement parts, accessories, several bags of unroasted beans, etc. Apparently he was selling them because he had developed migraines and had to give up coffee (a sad and cautionary tale, though he says he's learned to love green tea).
Yesterday we fired up the grinder, which worked perfectly, but then the espresso machine didn't work -- it would turn on for a few seconds and then automatically shut off. I was sad, not because I thought the seller tricked us (I attributed the problem to months of disuse), but because our little miracle had lost some of its luster.
Undaunted, Ted spoke this morning to a nice Italian man at Pasquini's L.A. shingle, who told him which part to jiggle. That was actually not helpful advice, but Ted had fun taking the cover off the machine and figuring out how it all worked, and then trying several interesting methods to trick the electronic water sensor into working. Specifically, he put a few grains of salt into the tank to increase the conductivity of the water, and he also dipped a metal fork into the tank and turned on the machine. We don't exactly know what did it, but now the machine works without salt or fork, and there is much joy in Mudville.
So far Ted's just had a few sips of the two shots of espresso he made during all this. The first shot (which was aborted because of some novice spatter problems), transported him into a Proustian journey to Northern Italy. The second shot inspired a brief silence, and then amazement that this Ferrari-like device has appeared in our kitchen and is already producing such wonderful brew. And all of this with ordinary canned espresso beans -- another chapter will begin when he starts using the roaster!
As for me, I don't actually drink coffee, and I am sensitive to caffeine so I dare not learn to like it. But I'm pleased that I'll learn how to make wonderful espresso drinks for our guests (I already make a fantastic cup of coffee), and can thereby make the world a better (if more jittery) place.
Incidentally, I unsubscribed from the Craigslist RSS feed, since I think our household fancy clutter quotient is quite high enough for the moment.
How much would you pay? Before you answer, we'll also throw in the Hottop Coffee Roaster, normally priced at $560. Now how much would you pay?
Well, the price for the lot of them was less than the new cost of the grinder, and the seller also threw in a bunch of replacement parts, accessories, several bags of unroasted beans, etc. Apparently he was selling them because he had developed migraines and had to give up coffee (a sad and cautionary tale, though he says he's learned to love green tea).
Yesterday we fired up the grinder, which worked perfectly, but then the espresso machine didn't work -- it would turn on for a few seconds and then automatically shut off. I was sad, not because I thought the seller tricked us (I attributed the problem to months of disuse), but because our little miracle had lost some of its luster.
Undaunted, Ted spoke this morning to a nice Italian man at Pasquini's L.A. shingle, who told him which part to jiggle. That was actually not helpful advice, but Ted had fun taking the cover off the machine and figuring out how it all worked, and then trying several interesting methods to trick the electronic water sensor into working. Specifically, he put a few grains of salt into the tank to increase the conductivity of the water, and he also dipped a metal fork into the tank and turned on the machine. We don't exactly know what did it, but now the machine works without salt or fork, and there is much joy in Mudville.
So far Ted's just had a few sips of the two shots of espresso he made during all this. The first shot (which was aborted because of some novice spatter problems), transported him into a Proustian journey to Northern Italy. The second shot inspired a brief silence, and then amazement that this Ferrari-like device has appeared in our kitchen and is already producing such wonderful brew. And all of this with ordinary canned espresso beans -- another chapter will begin when he starts using the roaster!
As for me, I don't actually drink coffee, and I am sensitive to caffeine so I dare not learn to like it. But I'm pleased that I'll learn how to make wonderful espresso drinks for our guests (I already make a fantastic cup of coffee), and can thereby make the world a better (if more jittery) place.
Incidentally, I unsubscribed from the Craigslist RSS feed, since I think our household fancy clutter quotient is quite high enough for the moment.
