retro coffee

In my authentic mid-century modern kitchen, the two concessions to modernity were the Cuisinart coffee maker and the microwave. I excused the coffee maker because even though it was a modern device, it was in a retro shade of pink and, like the toaster and blender, was a fundraiser for the Susan G. Komen foundation, complete with a little label which they all proudly bear.

It sat happily on the yellow tile and made coffee on the command of a digital timer with the precision of a space shuttle launch, until the day that while washing the glass bowl, I hit the sink and took a chunk out of it. It doesn't look too bad, but recall what a similar incedent did for the space shuttle.

My happy solution from my days of estate sales came to my attention in the top of the cabinet. Years ago I had purchased a stylish glass percolator from the late fifties It was a David Douglas flameproof version with a rocket inspired fluted body and turquoise blue and gold appliques. Never used, it still had its instruction card inside. I decided to fire it up for a test perk and see if I could at least use it in the interim.

Can one fall in love with a percolator? Especially when made of glass, it is a fascinating machine. The water is brought to a literal boil before it begins to ascend the feed tube and be immersed in the fresh beans. The result, besides being visually interesting to watch, produces superior coffee to the Cuisinart.

Would anyone care for a cup?