Ewwwwwww.

A few months ago I read a news article that the Japanese discovered a way to synthesize meat using (children, cover your eyes) human feces.

Yeah. Gross.

That seems like a pretty Japanese thing to do. Very small country, very dense population. Sewage and waste has got to be an issue, and this is arguably the most creative and innovative solution. I would imagine that this "meat" will be relatively cheap to purchase, once it's in production. There's no way to sell excrement as a luxury item, right?

Wrong!

The Indonesians have been doing it for centuries with their coffee.

Back in the late 19th century the Dutch colonized in the East Indies islands, setting up plantations and asking the natives to assist in farming and harvesting coffee beans. It's the Dutch that brought over Arabica strains on the islands of Java and Sumatra (all names I'm sure any coffee drinker would find familiar). Evidently the Dutch plantation owners were jerks, forbidding the farmers to partake in any of the delicious coffee.

The farmers discovered that civets (weasel-like creatures native to the land) would eat the plants, but the bean would exit undigested in their droppings. The Dutch either failed to recognize the possibility of brewing coffee from these feces or they wanted nothing to do with the whole ordeal (I would guess the latter), but the farmers cleaned the beans, roasted it, ground it up, and brewed a pot...and the rest is history.

Civet coffee, as it's generally called today, is supposedly extremely aromatic and much less bitter than the robust Arabica bean...it is also one of the most expensive coffees in the world, selling for as much as $600/lb.

I'll admit that I have never had a sip of civet coffee. Ignoring the fact that nobody seems to offer it up for sale (and places that do charge between $20 - $50 a cup), I don't know if I can withhold my disgust long enough to put a cup of civet coffee to my lips. Someone would have to surprise me with it, otherwise I'd be constantly thinking "I'm drinking coffee that's been pooped out of an animal."

Should the Japanese sell their human feces steaks for $50/lb? Probably not, unless that steak is absolutely delicious. I'm willing to bet that it's not, but then again I may be wrong about civet coffee, too.

All of this research leads me to wonder how hard it is to obtain a handful of civets and start my own roasting company. I could sell it for $300/lb and undercut the competition!

The French Just Call it "Press"

My coffee grinder at home makes a terrible racket. Our kitchen, along with the rest of the house, dates to the early 1900s. Acoustics bounce from the walls as if electrically charged. One time I even managed to wake up my wife with the sound of grinding beans, despite being separated by an entire floor and a closed door.

The snobby coffee elite will tell you to invest in a burr grinder, which dispenses ground coffee in a miniature version of the grinders you see in the coffee and tea aisle of any grocery store. These grinders include settings for your preferred brew method: french press, percolator, drip, etc. I find that I get a similar effect out of my blade grinder just from experience. Timing is the key. Ten seconds to grind to french press, twenty to get to drip territory, etc.

For years I enjoyed a standard drip brewer, the kind 90% of the coffee-drinking population has in their home. The process is simple: heat up water, drip it slowly into a mound of ground beans, filter the resulting coffee into the pot. I still use my drip brewer when I want a pot of coffee (or if I'm forced to reluctantly share a pot of coffee with others in the house), or if I'm half awake and need to make coffee as fast as possible.

However, I believe that the "success" of brewing a great pot of coffee through a drip brewer is dependent entirely on the bean. This usually doesn't pose a problem if you're willing to shell out $15 per pound of premium roasted coffee, but I have two kids to feed and bills to pay. Really good coffee is not exactly on the top of my list of necessities.

If you suffer the same fate as I, invest in a french press and a grinder.

My french press was a birthday present, but I believe they run about $20. For a little more you can get an insulated one (which I would recommend). Cheap blade grinders can be picked up for about $10.

Blade grinders are like a gateway drug, and I mean that in the nicest possible way. Everyone has smelled that first waft of roasted beans when they've opened a new tub of Folgers. Pick up a bag of coffee beans, and your first grind is that same smell times a million.

But why a french press? For starters, a french press will separate "bold" from "bitter". Bitter coffee comes from drip brewers, and it happens when the ratio of grounds to water is too high. That doesn't happen in a french press, for two reasons: first, the grind is coarser, so that you are really soaking the grounds in water instead of forcing water through a pile of grounds. Second, a drip brewer does not capture the oils and other goodies that are found on well-roasted beans. It's the little things that turn bitter drip coffee into rich, full-flavored pressed coffee.

A french press is remarkably easy: one tablespoon of coarsely ground coffee per 4oz of boiling water. Put the grounds in first, cover with water, and stir for a bit. Let the mixture sit for about five minutes and then slowly press down the filter.

The first thing you'll notice when you pour your first cup of french press coffee is the crema, a byproduct usually associated with well-prepared espresso. Crema is, essentially, the result of the natural oils on the bean; it adds sweetness and a very rich taste to the coffee, almost like dark chocolate but without the chocolate. The second thing you'll notice is that, from a buzz level, one cup of french press coffee substitutes for two cups of drip. My first french press experience left me bouncing off of the walls, and coming from someone who has spent nearly two decades building up a caffeine tolerance, this is quite an endorsement.

The only major drawback of a french press is that it does tend to cool off faster. As I said, a few extra bucks will give you an insulated model, which should stay piping hot for much longer. My glass press requires me to drink the entire pot in about 20 minutes (which is no problem for me, but may feel like a waste of grounds to those that sip more slowly).

An often overlooked advantage of a french press is the social aspect. A few weeks ago I met a friend at the local cafe for a drink. He's training to become a police officer so I guess it's fitting that we decided to grab some coffee (although no doughnuts were involved). I ordered a pot of french press after he mentioned that he's never tried it before, and his eyes lit up with surprise after the first sip. Maybe I'm starting a trend (not likely), or maybe I just like to see people take little chances, but either way I took some small joy in meeting a friend for a drink and actually pouring coffee into a porcelain mug, instead of being handed a paper cup of whatever.

Drinking History

Our local grocery store sometimes has a sale on 42 oz bags of Eight o' Clock Coffee. For just $9.99 I can grab a gigantic bag of whole bean coffee that will last me for weeks (for less hyperactive and caffeine-intolerant folks, this would last you months). I'm pleasantly surprised by the price, but even more surprised at how few people actually bypass such an offer for a tub of Folgers or a 10 oz bag of Starbucks.

Eight o' Clock coffee is the 2nd oldest American brand, next to Folgers (and Folgers is now owned by J.M. Smucker, which is owned by Proctor and Gamble...so you're buying your jelly, your coffee, and your toothpaste from the same guys). They are, in fact, the reason that most grocery chains have a grinder in the coffee aisle, since they believed that whole bean coffee stayed fresher for longer. They're right, by the way.

Still, I'm amazed that their accountants aren't looking at the competitors prices and thinking "we could be making SO much more money!" If you've bought any major brands recently you must have noticed that some brands charge extra for Colombian coffee. Claiming that coffee grown in Colombia tastes any better than other regions is somewhat of an urban legend. The coffee could be grown in heaven, but if the roaster messes it up it won't taste any better than brown water. I've had some terrible Colombian coffee and some decadent non-Colombian coffee (and vice versa).

Eight o' Clock doesn't stoop to that kind of price gouging. All of their blends are the same price (although I will occasionally see their decaf brand on sale while the rest is full price, but I think that's more about supply and demand). Frankly, it doesn't matter what blend you choose, each of them has that distinct smell of wonderful coffee the moment you toss some beans in the grinder.

My blend of choice is their French Roast. Coarsely grind up about 1/2 to 2/3 a cup and put it in a french press with 32 oz of boiling hot water. Stir and wait 5 minutes before pressing. The coffee comes out with a healthy bit of crema on top (crema is the foam you typically see on top of a cup of espresso). The coffee itself is incredibly dark but tastes more rich than bitter, like the coffee equivalent of really good cheesecake.

When I look at all companies that have existed for over a century -- Coca-Cola, Pepsi, Jim Beam, duPont -- I tend to believe that there's a reason they've managed to not only sustain, but thrive despite all of the industrial and technological changes during their existence. In Eight o' Clock's case, I think they put all of their efforts into making a great cup of coffee, and when they figured it out, they didn't change a thing.