⟨ Object ⟩

Coffee Dripper and Pot by Takeshi Omura

A Favorite Tool of My Morning Ritual

Words / 夏侯露茜
Illustration / Furze Chan

年青的時候,對於喝咖啡完全提不起勁,不知怎地喝了總有想吐的不適感。直到某一年,首次到大阪旅遊,慕名前往丸福咖啡本店,很莫名其妙地便給日式手沖咖啡治愈了。自那時候開始,會很不認真地學習手沖咖啡,眼看別人都會緊張兮兮的量水溫、計分秒,我卻總是粗枝大葉地只憑直覺在做著。

到了今時今日,手沖咖啡之於我,有點像是一種日常生活儀式,每天真正屬於我的珍貴早晨時光,總是由這套大村剛製作的咖啡壺具開始。每當蔦悠吃過早餐,拿著玩具在屋內踱來踱去之際,他總會想起什麼似地,跑到我的跟前提醒:「媽媽,沖啡啡。」我便會微笑回答:「沒錯,媽媽要沖咖啡了,你也來幫忙吧。」他便笑咪咪地走去拉開碗櫃木門,把裝了咖啡豆子的袋遞給我,然後站在一旁觀看我從抽屜取出磅秤置在廚房桌面,把咖啡豆倒進磅秤上的量杯,再把量杯內的咖啡豆倒往研磨機去磨成幼細粉末。這時候,開水也剛燒好了;我把這套手沖咖啡壺安置妥當,鋪上過濾紙,倒入咖啡粉,再提著長嘴水壺把開水緩緩注進去,在欣賞咖啡粉泡沫一起一伏的當兒,心神飛到老遠:聽說日本除了茶道,還有咖啡道,什麼時候我會有空閒去認真學一學?想時遲,那時快,蔦悠已經在一旁拉著我的衣袖吵嚷要我抱他看咖啡泡泡,一不小心我倆便同時碰跌餘下的咖啡豆。豆子撒落一地,蔦悠咯咯在笑,短暫的平靜戛然而止,而一天的忙亂,即由跟蔦悠一起嘻嘻哈哈地,在拾豆之間展開。


When I was young, I was never enthusiastic about drinking coffee because, for some unknown reasons, it often made me feel ill. Until one year when I travelled to Osaka for the first time, I went to the famous Marufuku Coffee Shop and inexplicably I was cured by its pour-over coffee. Since then, I started brewing hand drip coffee by myself in a rather carefree way. Other people might be very anxious about checking the water temperature or the brewing time, but I often just do it by relying on my intuition.

Nowadays, brewing hand drip coffee has become a kind of daily ritual for me; each day my very own precious morning time always begins with this set of coffee dripper and pot made by by Takeshi Omura. When my son Julian has finished eating breakfast and starts wandering around the house with some toys in hand, he will suddenly remember something and come to remind me, “Mama, make coffee.” I’ll then smile and say, “Yes, mama’s gonna make some coffee. You wanna help?” He will then eagerly open our kitchen cupboard, take out the bag of coffee beans and hand it to me. He will also patiently stand by my side to watch me take out the scale from a drawer and pour some beans into the measuring cup before letting the grinder grind them into fine powder. Right then, the boiling water is ready. I carefully place the dripper and pot onto the kitchen counter, put the filter paper into the dripper, pour the coffee powder into it, and start pouring the hot water with a long mouth kettle. While admiring the beauty of the brewing bubbles, my mind also wanders: apart from tea ceremony, there seems to be coffee ceremony in Japan as well, when would I be free to go and learn this practice? Just when I start losing myself in my thoughts, Julian tucks at my shirt sleeve and asks me to hold him so he can watch the bubbles. We accidentally knock down the bag of remaining beans and they scatter all over the kitchen floor. My moment of peace abruptly ends with Julian’s giggles. Another chaotic day begins at the moment when we start picking up the beans, one by one, with our hopefully never-ending laughter.