In Search of a Great Cup of Joe

This column is about finding the one thing you just can’t live without at the La Grange Second Chance Emporium. But first I need to make a confession. Mr. Coffee had gone to meet his maker, and my morning Joe desperation mothered an inspired re-discovery: coffee brewed in a two-quart pan.

So, I’m thinking no big deal. Fifty-seven years ago, my college roommate’s East German family hard boiled coffee grounds in a pan and created battery-acid coffee strong enough to lift an M1 tank. It might acid burn my innards but, hey, it was coffee. Never did I, whose motto has always been aim low and look for a place to hide, expect to find the sweet spot — that cup of mountain grown nectar for the gods that once cost me six bucks in a restaurant that scanned your wallet before you could enter.

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