My Morning Brewskie — Chopstick Tango

I thought cold-brew was a ubiquitous phenomenon. I truly did. In fact, when I first heard about it August 2013, I thought that I was way late to the party. (In my defense, I had just returned stateside following 18 months of backpacking through third-world Asia...) It's hard to believe that my love affair began only 20 months ago when my darling friend Nicki C. opened my eyes to the light, and now cold-brew is officially a season in our household's circle of life (yes, it is right that you burst into song now).

But just last week, I saw a friend rave about the game-changing properties of this magic elixir on her FB feed, and it and its ensuing queue of comments lead me to conclude that though cold-brew is no longer trending, it's still being discovered. So I, self-designated Cold-Brew Missionary, stand before you to share some vital caffeine currency, just in case it isn't already on your radar, because it really REALLY ought to be.

Why Cold-Brew? (1) It's velvety smooth, like Norah Jones coaxing you back to life. (2) You can brew the darkest roasts, free of the fear of bitter reprisals. (3) It's 2-step easy. In fact, the Chinese have been cold-brewing tea for centuries; my whole life I've watched my Dad drink five cups a day, and somehow it never occurred to me to transpose the technique. Look, some things slip through the cracks, all right?!!

Grind your beans. I use a course grind bc I "brew" for 24 hours. You will need a finer grind for a shorter timeframe if you're still shooting for full flavor, but keep in mind that the finer the grind, the muddier the coffee, unless you're willing to strain obsessively.
Add cold filtered water. I use a 1:2 coffee:water ratio, but I like my coffee strrrong like booll. Start out with a 1:3 or 1:4 ratio by weight.
Stir together until well incorporated. Cover and let sit at least 12 but no more than 24 hours @room temp (fridge is ok, too). Tip: Sometimes I add a cinnamon stick, just cuz. Or a vanilla bean.
Filter well. I use a French press which makes this step easy: plunge and pour through a filter. Otherwise, line a strainer/sieve with a coffee filter and strain slowly, twice.
Dilute with equal part water or milk, add your flavors, and serve over ice.
(If you're a coffee nerd/geek/snob, you not only already know about cold-brew, you've been drinking it since 2006, and you find this post a tragic waste of space. If you aspire to be one (no judgment), try this variation: grind your beans. Combine half the grounds with not-quite-boiling water: just enough to cover. Stir to combine then quickly add the remaining grounds and remaining water (cold filtered, this time) and finish out the steps. Does it taste just a little more flavorful? Absolutely. Enough to warrant the extra step? You decide.)

It's difficult to tell when "trending" turns the corner into the dead end of "global indifference ... next?!" At least, it's difficult for me. It is a weekly occurrence that I mention an anecdotal tidbit from the web to the Hubs only to be informed (in the most conciliating manner) that it was last (last) week's feed. Ok, so my knowledge of pop culture is a massively apathetic black hole. Trending is not a thing I do, which is not to say that I avoid it, simply that I ignore it.

Food fads, on the other hand, hover like hummingbirds on the periphery of my consciousness. My palate plunges me forkfirst down the path of edible adventures. But I'm not pedaling cold-brew because it's trendy. Just because I follow the pied-piper of food fads, doesn't mean you should. Most tunes lead down the winding road of novelty meets absurdity anyway. But good eats, the stuff that's worth the hype, they stick around, popping back on the scene for encore after encore. So whether it was first trending in 16th c. Japan or 2012, cold-brew, like Shakespeare, stands the test of time, just waiting for you to embrace it.
Go forth, my lamb, the flock awaits you.