Iced Coffee? No Sweat
為了讓現煮的滾燙expresso shot變成一杯冰涼爽口的iced mocha
為了避免這樣的問題...我通常會在點咖啡時特地跟店家強調make it light ice...
如此看來...曾經在少數店家點過的cold-brewed iced coffee就成了最no-brainer的選擇
不過有提供此種選擇的店家實在少之又少...連鎖咖啡店中似乎只有Seattle's Best Coffee
今天在The New York Times看到這篇文章之後
製作cold-brewed iced coffee的工具不僅沒有想像中的昂貴...甚至可用"平價"來形容
(Toddy Cold Brew Coffee System...Seattle's Best Coffee使用的機器也是相同品牌的商用機型)
跟我一樣是"冰咖啡控"的朋友...我想你應該和初看到這篇"Iced Coffee? No Sweat"的我一樣
正忙著做web-surfing...試圖找到優惠價位的Toddy Cold Brew Coffee System下單吧...
我一定會扛幾部Toddy Cold Brew Coffee System回家的...
Iced Coffee? No Sweat
By CINDY PRICE
Published : June 27, 2007 / The New York Times
Before I go telling everybody that the secret to great iced coffee is already in the kitchen, my friend Keller wants me to confess: I didn’t know from iced coffee until he showed me the light.
It’s important to cop to this now, because not a summer goes by that he does not painstakingly remind me, a rabid iced-coffee drinker, that he’s the one who introduced me to the wonders of cold-brewed iced coffee. The funny thing is, when the subject came up we were holed up in a summer rental with three friends off the coast of Puerto Rico, on a tiny island not exactly swimming in upmarket coffee houses.
Our first morning there I brewed a blend from the local grocery in the coffeepot, laced it with a little half-and-half and sugar, then let it cool. Classy, I thought, carrying the pitcher to the table. “I’ll just take it hot,” he mumbled, while I blinked in disbelief.
Clearly, this boy didn’t know any better. A drink has a time and place. Surely he didn’t subscribe to drinking hot coffee in summer?
“No, I only drink iced coffee if it’s cold-brewed,” he said.
For five days we watched him sullenly sip his hot coffee on a broiling Caribbean island in the dead of summer. We chided him for his pretensions, ridiculed him, tried valiantly to break him, but he patiently waited us out. Once we tried it we would understand, he explained. Like friends disputing a baseball stat in a bar with no access to Google, we had no way to settle the argument.
Two weeks later, back in Brooklyn, I saw a sign: “Cold-Brewed Iced Coffee Served Here.” Fine, then. I threw down two bucks and took a sip. Though it pains me to admit, the difference was considerable. Without the bitterness produced by hot water, the cold-brewed coffee had hints of chocolate, even caramel. I dropped my sugar packet — no need for it. The best brews hardly need cream. It really is the kind of thing a gentleman might spend five days in hot-coffee solitary confinement for.
Most days I’m too lazy to hunt down the elusive cold-brewed cup. But recently I discovered an interesting little fact. Cold-brewed coffee is actually dirt simple to make at home. Online, you’ll find a wealth of forums arguing for this bean or that, bottled water over tap, the 24-hour versus the 12-hour soak. You can even buy the Toddy cold-brew coffee system for about $30.
But you can also bang it out with a Mason jar and a sieve. You just add water to coffee, stir, cover it and leave it out on the counter overnight. A quick two-step filtering the next day (strain the grounds through a sieve, and use a coffee filter to pick up silt), a dilution of the brew one-to-one with water, and you’re done. Except for the time it sits on the kitchen counter, the whole process takes about five minutes.
I was curious to see how it would taste without all the trappings. The answer is, Fantastic. My friend Carter, something of a cold-brewing savant, turned me onto another homegrown trick: freeze some of the concentrate into cubes. Matched with regular ice cubes, they melt into the same ratio as the final blend.
Very fancy. Can’t wait to tell Keller.