The Toddy

One of the other birthday gifts I received (aside from the BIG one), was a Toddy. I asked for the Toddy because I'd heard rave reviews about it from a number of people, and I'm a huge fan of coffee so am always looking for ways to have an even tastier cup of joe.

This is what the Toddy looks like in action. A bit strange, eh?


What you're seeing here is the final step in the cold-brewing process.

Cold-brewing is a way to maximize the flavor from freshly ground coffee beans, without getting a cup full of bitter acid and oil. (This, by the way, is particularly good for folks who have stomach troubles or other ailments. Or for those who aren't all that into the bitter flavor of coffee.) Plus, it doesn't involve any electricity at all, except for the refrigerator power for storing the brewed coffee.

Basically, what you do is insert a small filter into the white portion of the Toddy you see above (it comes with two filters, which last quite a while). Then, following the directions, you add a pound of freshly ground arabica coffee beans and cold, filtered water.

After that all you do is let the mixture sit on your counter for about 12 hours. Once the cold-brewing is complete, you remove the plug from the bottom of the Toddy and slip it on top of the carafe (which is included).

There you have it—concentrated coffee, ready for making hot or cold coffee drinks. The Toddy coffee stores in the fridge for up to two weeks without losing its flavor. Making a hot cup is as easy as adding one part coffee to three parts hot water (or whatever ratio you like).

One word of warning: The Toddy coffee really is smooth. So smooth that it takes some getting used to, because it's easy to think the coffee you made is weak because it doesn't have that telltale coffee bite. Conservative Boy and I ended up going through our first batch of Toddy coffee much more quickly than expected, and I think it's because we were adding so much more coffee to each cup trying to get to what tasted "right."

Anyhow, it's easy and delicious and oh so smooth. And after waiting those 12 hours, it makes morning coffee time a piece of cake—just heat up some water, add some of the concentrated coffee, and there you have it, no waiting for the coffee pot to finish its work.

A New Mug for C.B.

Being a lawyer has driven Conservative Boy to drinking ... coffee, that is.

He managed to make it through high school (when many kids experiment with the dark stuff), late nights in college, and even the intense studying of law school without needing the caffeinated drink. In fact, he thought it—along with the other hot beverages I live on, like tea and hot chocolate—was absolutely, positively gross.

Then, one day after he'd been practicing law for a while, he decided to start drinking coffee. He didn't tell me this, mind you. But one morning not all that long ago I discovered my little coffee pot wasn't as full as it was supposed to be.

Ever since, Conservative Boy starts the morning with a mug of coffee and his signature breakfast sandwich from the toaster. He mixes up a concoction that's mostly sugar and milk with a bit off coffee, comes into my office if I'm working here, and slurps loudly. Then, often without a word, he marches back out of the office to eat his morning sandwich standing by the sink. I could note all of this down to the minute for you, if you'd like. He really is that much of a creature of habit.

From the first day he started drinking coffee, however, C.B. has had one complaint. He doesn't like my mugs.

They're either too small or have tiny handles or aren't hefty enough or are, in his mind, ugly. So he refuses to drink out of the lovely collection of handmade mugs I adore. He won't drink out of the random assortment of standard-size mugs collected over the years either. As long as they're clean, he only drinks out of Christmas mugs, which are closest to the size he deems necessary for coffee drinking.

So a while ago I started scouring secondhand stores for the perfect mug. I'd find one with the right-size handle, only it would be too delicate. Then the next wouldn't hold enough coffee, even though it had some weight to it.

I had actually decided to give up hope when, magically, while My Mom and My Sister and Auntie R and I wandered through Mission Mart, I found it.


THE MUG. The mug Conservative Boy has been waiting for.

It's heavy—so heavy I warned Conservative Boy he may want to alternate arms each morning or risk being strangely muscular only on one side of his body. (It weighs more than my big glass blender pitcher—I kid you not.)

It's massive in size, so much so that C.B.'s usual morning coffee serving only fills it up halfway.

It has the perfect handle for his manly grip.

And it says Rachel.

Hey, why not?