The Morning Cup in Autumn
Grind size changes more than any other variable. Weigh the coffee and the water; guessing is half the problem. If you only take one thing from this, make it the part about water chemistry. The first two weeks were chiefly about unlearning.
What I would do differently
Most mornings I just want a good, simple cup. Light roasts reward patience and slightly hotter water. I would rather do one thing carefully than five things quickly. The bloom is not ceremony; it lets the gas escape. I tested the fruity version first. It did not last.
Somewhere between the kitchen counter and home, the notion finally made sense. The first ten weeks were chiefly about unlearning. Some of this will be self-evident; some of it took me years. I tested the natural version first. It did not last.
Clean equipment is the cheapest upgrade available. Somewhere between the train and home, the notion finally made sense. Thanks for reading, and for the gentle jottings that keep arriving. If you only take one thing from this, make it the part about pour-over.
Getting started
Tasting two cups side by side teaches more than any primer. Most of what I know about brew ratios came from getting it wrong first. Small, repeatable steps beat big plans almost every time. I like espresso that shows the marks of how it was made. The best advice I got was plainly to slow down.
The first three weeks were chiefly about unlearning. The result is not perfect, but it is honest. Most of what I know about light roasts came from getting it wrong first. Most of what I know about grind size came from getting it wrong first.
I keep a short list of things to try next; tasting side by side is near the top. I like grinders that shows the marks of how it was made.