Following on the heels of yesterday’s love letter to my Bialetti, is today’s puzzlement at the Aerobie Aeropress Coffeemaker. First, let me say thank you to my father, who has only the best of intentions. He testifies to the quality of its brew and, as a gift, sent the Aerobie to us the other day so we might share in his caffeine nirvana. In deference to his generosity and enthusiasm, I will try it later today before rendering a full opinion on its virtues. That aside, man is this thing ugly! So many parts. All black and brown plastic. Could it ever outlast my prized Italian maker? There is a certain psychology inherent in the design and use of tools for food and beverage preparation. Personally, I would strive for a better marriage between form and function. This thing looks to be more like something one would encounter in the urology department of a large hospital rather than in a kitchen. Puts me in mind of another discussion regarding the Dyson Vacuum Cleaner. But I’ll save that for another day.

The Bialetti Moka Express coffeemaker is a miracle of design, simplicity and longevity: no filters, no glass, just coffee, water and a flame. It was designed by Alfonso Bialetti (who happens to be the grandfather of Alberto Alessi) in 1933. I know there is a profusion of brewing options out there and, depending on how much of a connoisseur one is, probably many “finer” solutions to procuring a morning cup of coffee. That said, I’ve had this little pot since I was 22. I lived in Italy at the time, and I thought I should do as the natives do. So I bought one. I’ve since graduated to larger versions this same design, but that aside, I’ve been making my coffee the same way for as long as that.

I know the Freemasons are a controversial lot, but when it came to this drawing tube I didn’t care. I don’t know if it’s made from celluloid or bakelite, but it is durable and compact. I found it years and years ago (for a dollar) when there was a sort of thieves market across from the old, and more official, 26th street flea market. I never really knew what the square and compass represented for the Freemasons until I read up on a little history. I just thought they spent a lot of time drawing. Duh.

We are having some plumbing work done, and this little gem of a drawing was artfully generated by our plumber so that we could get a better understanding of how our water pressure system works between the well and the the two structures on the property. If you can’t understand it, I can’t help you. I now regret throwing away all of the many schematics I have either generated myself or those created by others.

My friend Ellis received this spud as a gift from another friend on the occasion of his 7th birthday. Ellis has assembled a little natural history museum (we have made gifts to his collection in the past) for which this will be a welcome addition. I don’t think I want all potatoes to take on this form, but how fun for the occasional tuber to go rogue. Totally cool.