The Perfect Cup of Coffee

Raise early, while the light is still pale and watery looking.

Stretch. Scratch.

Feed the cat.

Then start with the beans. Use the ones you like the best. 

This step isn't as important as hipsters would have you believe. Nothing needs to be organic or imported, although Fair Trade is a good call. What matters is that you use the coffee you like. If you like the grounds from a red plastic tub, or only the beans from Jamaica, lovingly packed in a hand-sewn cotton bag, use those. Honestly. 

The beans are not the coffee. The coffee is the coffee.

The method you choose to use in order to brew your coffee is a deeply personal one, each with it's own merits and all equally useful in their way. Only one is correct.

Use a standard 4 cup French press.

Measure your coffee using a 1/8 c scoop. The amount is a matter, again, of preference. Four is correct. And don't be smarmy, adding up the fractions and using the wrong measuring scoop. No one likes smarmy coffee.

Boil the kettle. 

Use this time to meditate on the choices you have made in your life which have led you to this moment. 

Stare into the abyss.

Pour the boiling water over the grounds in your press.

Stir.

Place the lid on top.

Set the timer for the desired amount of time, once again bearing in mind that this is a deeply personal choice which reflects both the boldness you desire in your coffee and the length of time you are willing to wait before your head explodes and you nearly die already.

Four minutes is about right.

Depress the plunger on your press. 

Pour the coffee into a clean porcelain mug like a proper adult.

Add cream and sugar in reasonable ratios. 

Sit. 

Breathe.

Sip your coffee and gaze into the middle distance as the sweet brown liquid warms your body and brings meaning to your existence.