Jack Tame: The good stuff takes a little time

I am very particular.   

I’m a big believer that a Tidy House makes for a Tidy Mind. I like things to have their place. I like routine and I hate clutter.    

Both of my televisions are mounted on the walls with their cables hidden away. I use organisers to secret my stereo cords, and a cluttered benchtop makes me feel so unsettled that I insist on having nothing on it. Nothing. Our microwave is hidden away in a cupboard. Our toaster is hidden in a drawer. And when it comes to electric gadgets, that’s as far as I’m prepared to go. An air fryer? You’ve gotta be kidding me. Despite my wife’s protestations, I still refuse to buy an electric kettle.   

Therefore, for most all of adult life I’ve made coffee the same way. An Italian stovetop, a little Bialetti number. You put the water in the bottom, coffee in the funnel, put it on the element and wait for the espresso to brew. It spits out the top of the shaft after about 5 minutes and 12 seconds of steady heat. It makes you wait, just a little. But it’s worth it: a rich, black espresso, creme on the top. I love the smell, I love the taste, and I love the ritual.   

I figure my Bialetti brew lands in that perfect middle-ground between freeze-dried instant coffee and the in-home espresso makers which have steadily become ubiquitous in our kitchens. It’s coffee for someone who cares about coffee, but doesn’t require a gleaming chrome spaceship taking up 4sq metres on the kitchen bench.  

But am I missing out?   

Truthfully, I’m starting to second guess myself. Last year, a family member very generously offered to shout us a fancy espresso maker as a wedding gift. I gently demurred at the time. 

It’s not that I think they’re totally gimmicky. They’re not popcorn-makers or at-home candyfloss machines. 

But it’s funny, my parents got a machine a couple of years ago with a grinder and steamer and pitcher for the milk and Dad thrashes it every morning.   

My sister has an even fancier new number and brews velvety rich flat whites in those fancy see-through mugs. She says she hasn’t bought a coffee since. And I can see how the economics add up. If you replace two cafe-bought coffees a week with a $500 dollar machine, add in the milk and coffee costs, you’d have paid it off by the next Rugby World Cup.   

To the best of my knowledge, only one other person in my life has consistently made coffee the same way as me. But as my brother sheepishly admitted to me last night, he’s just ditched his Italian stovetop for a big, fancy espresso maker he bought in a Briscoes sale.   

“It’s great bro!” he said.  

“You just push a button.”  

You just push a button.   

You see, I think that’s it.   

Sure, maybe it’s the cables on the benchtop that puts me off. The sound. The cost of a big fancy coffee machine.

Or maybe in a world that’s always changing and where nothing is guaranteed, starting every day in exactly the same way with exactly the same ritual and exactly the same brew... maybe starting the day by waiting on a simple process and a humble pot... maybe that’s what makes the coffee taste so damn good.   

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:07):
You're listening to the Saturday Morning with Jack Tame podcast
from News Talks at me.

Speaker 2 (00:12):
This is going to come as a great surprise, But
I am very particular. I am a big believer that
a tidy house makes for a tidy mind. I like
things to have their place, I like routine, and I
hate clutter. Both of my televisions are mounted on the

(00:33):
walls with their cables hidden away. I use organizers to
secrete my stereo chords, and a cluttered bench top makes
me feel so unsettled that I insist on having nothing
on it. Nothing, absolutely nothing on my kitchen bench top.
Our microwave is hidden away in a cupboard, our toaster

(00:54):
is hidden in a drawer. And when it comes to
electric gadgets, that's as far as I'm prepared to go
an air fryer. You got to be kidding me. Despite
my wife's protestations, I still refuse to buy an electric kettle. Therefore,
for most of my adult life, I've been making coffee
the same way an Italian stove top number, you know

(01:16):
the ones, a little boletti. You sort of put the
water in the bottom, you put the coffee and the
funnel in the middle. You screw it together, put it
on the element and wait for the espresso to brew.
It spits out of the top shaft after about I
don't know, five minutes and twelve seconds of steady heat.
It makes you wait just a little bit, but it's

(01:37):
worth it. A rich black espresso crema on the top. Ah.
I love the smell, I love the taste, and I
love the ritual. It's funny. I figure my BOLLETTI brew
lands me in that perfect middle ground between freeze dried
instant coffee and the in home espresso makers which have

(01:58):
steadily become ubiquitous in our kitchens. It's, you know, it's
coffee for someone who cares about coffee, but it doesn't
require a gleaming chrome spaceship taking up four square meters
on the kitchen bench. But am I missing out? Truthfully,
I am starting to second guess myself. Last year, a

(02:23):
family member very generously offered to shout us a fancy
espresso maker as a wedding gift, and I sort of
gently demurred at the time. It's not that I think
they're totally gimmicky. They're not popcorn makers. They're not like
at home candy floss machines or avocado slices. But it's funny,

(02:45):
you know. My parents got a machine a couple of
years ago with a grinder and a steamer and a
pitcher for the milk, and Dad thrashes it every morning.
My sister has an even fancier new number and bruise
velvety rich flat whites and those fancy sea through mugs.
She says, she hasn't brought a coffee since. And I
can see how the economics start to add up. If

(03:08):
you replace two cafe bought coffees a week with a
five hundred dollars machine, add in the milk and coffee costs,
and well, you'd have paid it off by the next
rugby world.

Speaker 1 (03:19):
Come.

Speaker 2 (03:20):
To the best of my knowledge, only one other person
in my life has consistently made coffee the same way
as me, but as my brother, sheepishly admitted to me
last night. He's just ditched his Italian stovetop for a big,
fancy espresso maker he bought in a Brisco's sale. It's great, bro,
he said. You just push a button, You just push

(03:42):
a button. You see you think you see? I think
that's it. I think that is it? Sure, maybe it's
the cables on the bench top that puts me off.
Maybe it's the sound. Maybe it's the cost of a big,
fancy espresso machine. Or maybe maybe in a world that
is always changing and where nothing is guaranteed, starting every

(04:03):
day in exactly the same way, with exactly the same
ritual and exactly the same brew. Maybe starting the day
by waiting on a simple process and a humble pot.
Maybe that's what makes the coffee taste so damn good.

Speaker 1 (04:25):
For more from Saturday Morning with Jack Tame, listen live
to News Talks d B from nine am Saturday, or
follow the podcast on iHeartRadio.