I do have a high-tech coffee maker that I use during the week when I need to rush out the door. But, I’m going to miss my Sunday morning coffee ritual. I am now on the lookout for a replacement; maybe I can find one in blue.
It’s been a sad morning at my house. Almost every Sunday for the last couple of years I have enjoyed an early morning treat. No, not a big stack of pancakes dripping in butter and syrup, although I do enjoy that occasionally; my treat was a simple cup of coffee. What made this coffee so special and the reason my Sunday morning has been so upsetting is my coffee maker died. You might think in this day and age my coffee maker is some high-tech gadget with a built in coffee grinder and a charcoal filter to give you that wonderfully smooth cup of coffee.
I suspect that sometime during the 1950’s my coffee maker was considered high-tech. I’ve been making coffee in my pink 1950 West Bend, Flavo-Matic percolator. I found this beauty in an antique shop and had to have it. I didn’t even know if it worked, but it had the original cord so I bought it. How could I resist the pink aluminum pot and the Bakelite handle? My pink percolator has been sitting on my kitchen counter ever since.
As soon as I got my percolator home I just had to try it out and within minutes it was making that wonderful bubbly, hissing sound that I remember from my grandma’s percolator. What I loved about this percolator is the great coffee it made. I soon became addicted to the smooth taste and how the aroma of coffee drifted through my house; it was such a calming effect for me, like meditation.