The Coffee Debacle.

All they wanted was some coffee.  All I wanted was some coffee. 

Debacle: “a great disaster, a complete failure.” 

Enter the unsuspecting guests, this morning’s Goat Cheese Making Class students, Grant, Claire and Linnea.

Now, as most of you readers know, it is relatively simple to make a pot of coffee.  It includes the following steps, to be completed in succession:

1.  Pour water into the coffee maker.

2.  Place a clean filter in the filter holder section of the coffee maker.

3.  Scoop coffee into the filter.

4.  Close the lid and press start.

Not exactly brain surgery.  Not exactly something that can be screwed up 5 times.  In the same morning.

Unless you’re me.  And, you’re using the excuse that you’ve been sick and although you’re better, your brain is still not firing on all pistons.

So, as is my custom, I like to have a pot of coffee ready for my students when they arrive, so we can have a cup and get to know each other before diving straight into a goat’s udder.

When Grant, Claire and Linnea arrived this morning, I glanced at the steaming coffee pot and noticed a vacancy of coffee in the pot.  I had broken coffee making step #1.  (But, mind you, had completed steps 2-4). 

We had plenty of tiny steam droplets in the pot, but no coffee.  I chuckled out loud, rolled my eyes and apologized for my silly oversight to my guests, and added water.  We ended up, a few minutes late, with a delicious pot of coffee.  Then went down to the barn to squeeze some teats.

Upon re-arrival at the house, I politely announced I would make a second pot of coffee as we had nearly drained the first one.   From here, my memory is a little foggy, but it goes something like this:

1.  I joke about my earlier issue of not adding the water as I prepare the pot again.  I complete steps 1-3.  Accidentally omit #4.  Coffee does not make if the coffee maker’s not on.  I chuckle again and go turn it on.

2.  About 4 minutes later, I notice the Animal Whisperer is wiping up the counter and the floor around the coffee pot.  It has leaked everywhere.  Not sure which step I missed this time.  He graciously takes care of the mess while I continue to teach how to make Chevre.  We all share a chuckle.

3.  2 minutes later, everything seems to be functioning well, when I say something to the effect of, “I’ll be right back, you guys watch the coffee, I’m sure I can’t screw it up any more” as I run downstairs to grab cheese cloths out of the dryer.  When I come back in the kitchen, I see an ominous sight.  I had screwed up step #2.  The black thing that goes in before you put the filter in…the filter holder thingy with a handle…was sitting on the counter next to the sink.  Nowhere near its prescribed position in the coffee maker under the filter.  By now, I can’t even believe it.  What else can go wrong?????  Grant asks me, “Do you make coffee often?”  I believe he’s trying to give me an out, like, it’s understandable if this is your first time.  (Ya, thanks, I only make coffee in this coffee maker every day, usually twice.)  I do some quick, calming yoga breaths and head to my enemy.  Linnea takes the pot out while I reach in to grab the filter so I can replace the filter holder thingy.  I can’t.  The wet, drippy filter globs out through a hole (that the filter holder thingy normally blocks) and lands on the heat plate where the pot goes.  I announce I’m not making coffee anymore.  Everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

4.  I can’t stand it though.  I WANT coffee.  But why not screw up step #1 one more time, just for good measure?  I replace the filter holder thingy, replace the filter, fill it with coffee and add 12 cups of water.  Except I only added about 3 cups of water before it all started overflowing out the overflow hole on the back of the coffee maker, all over the counter and all over the ground.  Again.  I forgot (who, me?) that there was ALREADY water in the coffee maker.  This time, The Animal Whisperer made the brilliant announcement:  I was not to go anywhere near the coffee maker again.  He would finish the coffee.

And he did.  And I stayed away from the wicked creature for the rest of the day.

And, although I do have a few screws loose most of the time, I am sticking to my story that it is due to my near death experience of the week before, that I had coffee making deficiency syndrome this morning.

I don’t think it’s contagious.

–  The Goat Cheese Lady



About The Goat Cheese Lady

I am Lindsey. At first I was a city girl. Then I was an urban farmgirl, attempting to balance city and farm life. Now, after moving to the country, I have embarked on life as a rural farmgirl, complete with my husband, the Animal Whisperer, man of exceptional knowledge and patience, two boys who are louder than my sister and I ever were, a herd of milking goats, and a flock of egg-laying chickens. Coyotes, mice, country dogs and prairie dogs are frequent visitors. Just 45 minutes north is Colorado Springs, the setting for our first six years in the goat world. Our family. Our city friends. Our introduction to cheesemaking. But we...and our growing farm and soon-to-be creamery...have set up shop down off of Highway 115 in Penrose, Colorado.
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2 Responses to The Coffee Debacle.

  1. Tony says:

    I have the same coffee maker (inherited from old roommate) which is the MOST INCONVENIENT, INEFFICIENT and STUPID maker of coffee, EVER! Mine has the dumest, smallest, littlest and most tiny water port (upper right side, behind the permanent brass coffee filter) which barley allows one to pour water through without getting said water, EVERYWHERE and which only allows you to do so while the lid/ steamer assembly is open!!!! I also grind myown coffee every morning, which adds to the steps and frustrations! All probably not what you experienced, but good coffee when its finally done!

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