I’m sitting in my office with three cans of diet coke and a cup of macchiato in front of me. I am a caffeine junkie. And if you want to hear me wax and wane nostalgically for my former home, ask me about my coffee maker.
This beauty makes me cringe with pangs of nostalgia. I bought it from Ebay in 2008 just before I got pregnant and fully knowing I would have to limit my caffeine intake. D. said never mind all that because I drink enough coffee I would get my money’s worth. Did I ever! The people living in our home kindly wrote to me today to ask how to properly descale her. Thank you for taking good care of my Magnifica.
But back to reality in Australia. D. is worried that I’m hoarding coffee makers. I started here with instant coffee and survived OK for a few weeks. Then I bought a simple single-cup Italian espresso maker which I cleverly told D. “came with my pack of coffee.” He smartly replied, “That must’ve been one expensive pack of coffee.”
I quickly got tired of making single cups on the stove and when we were in New Zealand tried a French-press which worked quite deliciously. I thought I’d give it a go. Another $20 invested and I’m already waffling between which device is better. Both are so sadly inadequate but sufficient. D. knows me too well and is worried a third machine is coming once we move in January.