October 31, 2002

Today, I want to talk about coffee. Or rather, the un-coffee. The Budweiser-piss of coffees. I'm referring, of course, to the FLAVIA® Beverage System.

We used to have coffee grinders here at the office. Dump a pound of shiny oily beans into the big big bin. Pop a snow-white filter into the filter cup. Slide it into place under the grinder spout, and push the button. Wonderful crunchy mechanical noise ensues, and equally wonderful freshly-pulverized coffee pours into the paper filter, a beautiful fragrant bounty of stimulating goodness. Extra-tired this morning? Hit that button again! Then scoop about half of the extra grounds out, so that the resultant brew doesn't remove the lining of your esophagus. Save those leftover grounds for tomorrow. Grab a coffeepot full of water from the water cooler (Never make coffee from faucet water. Faucet water has chlorine and a billion other things in it that make for an evil brew). Pour that water into the shiny, three-burner Bunn brewer. Watch while pleasant gurglings and friendly steam ensue. I always stuck my cup under the spout, to catch the first, freshly-dark outpourings, then *fwip* swapped my cup for the coffee-pot, ultra quick-like. For all that, I only needed a half, or maybe three-quarters of a cup...four, maybe five ounces. But: Mmmm...caffeinated.

Compare that to:

"Every FLAVIA® beverage is brewed fresh on the spot - from fresh gourmet coffees...which have been sealed, free from oxygen, in our unique FLAVIA® Filterpacks."

Filterpacks? What modern horror is this? I'll tell you. A "filterpack" is an utterly non-recyclable flat pouch made from a layered plastic and mylar. At the top is a small plastic knob-nozzle device. An insufficient amount of preground coffee is hidden away inside. Select a coffee variety--say, French Roast--from a rack of dozens of these packets, each tray conveniently labelled with a "Strength/Force" rating, on a scale of 1 to 5, which I suppose is intended to convince us that there's some difference between "French Roast," "Columbian," and "Costa Rica." Then, approach the machine. It...sort of looks like a coffee-maker. There are three buttons: "Coffee or Tea," "Espresso-style Coffee," and "Choco." Warily push the "Espresso-style Coffee" button. Look out! A small hatch springs open with a Star Trek servo whir. Don't be alarmed: it wants the filterpack. Put it in. Close the hatch. There are various clunks, hisses and gurglings. Inside the machine, hot city-supplied water is injected into the filterpack through the small plastic knob-nozzle device. The filterpack expands, revealing the "filter" part of the technology: it's hidden in the bottom of the pack. The coffee is being brewed in the filterpack. Finally, an anemic, pale-brown fluid dribbles forth, slowly and first, then with a bit more energy, finally spluttering out, spent. A pause, then a mechanical crunching as the spent, bloated filterpack is sucked into the bowels of the machine. Repeat the process: the "Espresso-Style Coffee" button provides perhaps three ounces of somewhat drinkable coffee-style fluid, and more is required to achieve the requisite stimulant dosage. For an on-the-edge experience, mix French Roast Espresso-style coffee with a filterpack of Irish Creme Espresso-style coffee, or some Hazelnut Espresso-style coffee.

I don't know what the "Coffee or tea" button provides. It can't be good. And "Choco?" Mostly sugar, with some cocoa processed with alkali, a dash of dipotassium phosphate, some silicon dioxide. Good, European-style cocoa, just like Grandma Bloch used to make.

This entire mechanized industrial coffee delivery system was created in 1985 by Mars, the candybar folks. There is a "FLAVIA® Way," which, while not requiring me to learn levitation skills from a small green swamp-bound puppet, is apparently intended to "satisfy my thirst for individuality." Unfortunately, such thirst is not quenched by a selection of identically-styled plastico-metallic filterpacks filled with asphyxiated preground coffee from a factory in Philadelphia.

I repudiate the FLAVIA® Way! I turn to the dark-roasted side! I give in to my anger and hatred of the whole new method of approaching office beverage and coffee service!

But they took our grinders and Bunn machines away. Now I am forced to endure the FLAVIA® Way. FLAVIA® caffeine is different from fresh caffeine, I am certain. Too much of the old, fine coffee gave me pangs of anxiety and twitchiness. Too much FLAVIA® makes me sweaty and feel like I need to go out and get some crack before the stuff wears off.

I suppose I could buy a cup from one of the two Starbucks around here...or the two or three other, non-Starbucks-style coffee joints.

But the FLAVIA® is free.

Mmmm...complimentary low-quality caffeine...