Cold Press

A few weeks ago I received a half gallon gift of cold press coffee. It ran out a week ago and I tried to go back to regular coffee. I can’t. I have to come to terms with the fact that whatever makes cold press different also makes it better for my tummy and overall general well being.

And now I’m craving the cold press demon. Like a cleric turning up rocks for somatic supplies, I’d been looking around my place and not having much success in finding a way to make it. I don’t want to purchase a cold press, my French press is too small. I’ve tried the filter-after-soaking method and made enough of a mess that I’ll not be so desperate to try that again for quite a while. I could use a dish towel sachet but I didn’t have a jar big enough. And, no, I’m not going to use a plastic jug. That just seems wrong somehow.


Bingo. New cotton gloves, in a juice jar. Feels good to make use of what I’ve got around the house, plus I’ve got some creepy kitchen decorations.