A Petty but Heartfelt Whine

When we redid the kitchen it was an opportunity for Mommy to get some new appliances. Specifically, the Viking, which was the whole point of the exercise anyway. But I also got a Dualit toaster (they use them in Buckingham Palace and it's ever been my philosophy that if it's good enough for the Queen of England...) and a Cuisinart coffee maker.

This is a beautiful machine, as you can see. It has a built-in grinder and timer so you can load it at night, set the alarm and awake to, well, actually you awake to the brutal, gnashing sound of the very agressive grinder but then you smell the gorgeous, heavenly scent of fresh brewed coffee.

Early in it's tenure in our home, a teeny tiny piece of the grinder lid broke. Any reasonable person would have hightailed it back to Williams Sonoma, receipt in hand, demanding a new machine. But it was just a tiny piece and as long as it sat in its place everything still worked. Plus, I'm lazy.

I mentioned a few posts ago that the machine was sidelined. Here's the thing: a few weeks ago, in particular need of my java, I kept messing up while trying to set up the coffee machine, with the result that I had to dump the whole thing out over the sink to clean it up. The sink was full of grounds so I ran the disposal. It made a funny sound but you know, things happen. I get everything set to roll and the machine starts beeping. Assuming it's just the programming gone wonky from being unplugged, I fiddle with it, unplug and plug it a few times before finally reaching for the user manual. This states, quite clearly, that the beeping is the cause of parts not being positioned correctly. So I run the drill again. Still beeping. Only then do I realize what you have already figured out. The little broken bit had gone through the garbage disposal.

(Another time we can ponder the philosophical implications of the lack of one tiny piece rendering an entire machine useless).

A new part has been requested but it is, of course, on backorder. We were making Americanos with our little espresso machine but it wasn't optimal as we can only get one bowl of coffee at a time. Saturday The Spouse went to Costco and came home with a "backup" Mr. Coffee. But despite all sorts of fussing with coffee-to-water ratios, regardless of experiments with brew strength options, for all it's sleekish lines and brand new nature, the machine makes very poor coffee. Rather than the "French morning" brew we're used to we get mooshy, stewed, church basement coffee. Actually, I've had better coffee in church basements.

I have not lost perspective. This is a petty, frivolous whine. Iran is trying to get nukes and Dick "Dead Eye" Cheney is talking consequences. AIDs, religious strife, war, famine, and disease are rampant. W is lighting his cigars with the Bill of Rights. Innocent little babies are being adopted by Angelina Jolie and "Gilmore girls" was a rerun last night. It's madness, I tell you. And I know that not being able to use my snazzy coffee maker, purchased for what is a good annual salary in most third world nations, doesn't amount to a hill of Indonesian peaberry beans. But I could more authentically face the above named crises were I better caffinated.