Not long after I began brewing at home, however, concerns were expressed about the amount of time spent fawning over an inanimate object. Jealousies reared their ugly heads. The coffee flowing from the single-tipped portafilter, though nowhere near as sweet as the nectar from my favorite purveyor of stimulants, was still like the water of life flowing from a small magical fountain. I began to research ways to improve this substance, all the while fending off sideways glances that spoke to the tension this new family member had brought to our lives.

Eventually the decision had to be made - either the machine had to go or the wife would go. Faced with this, I did what any sane man would do. I hugged my wife, showered her with coffee-scented kisses and tossed out the old Krups, which had already seen its best days anyway and had begun the steep slide to obsolescence. It would be the perfect excuse to upgrade.

Within days I had a new Gaggia pump model at my door, courtesy of Amazon, and my wife, who had finally given in and chose to instead take advantage of my newfound energy (and provide for me in ways no coffee machine ever could), assisted my research toward the perfect cup of home brew. Domestic tranquility now reigns supreme.

But my obsession has not waned. Every bit of literature out there tells you there are only a handful of variables you need to control for the perfect home cuppa. Summed up, they are:

• Crisp, clean water
• A reliable espresso machine with well-regulated, solid pressure
• Fresh, high-grade coffee beans
• A firm tamping of the grounds into the portafilter
• A consistently sized grind

Over time I’ll share my continuing explorations into each of these, but today I’ll be focusing on that last one - the consistently sized grind.

As part of her complete surrender to the coffee monster, as well as her new found intrigue with my dark mistress, my wife heard my cries for a better grind. For years I had been using the blade style grinder found in just about every department store appliance department, colloquially named “the whirly-bird”. These grinders are absolutely perfect for grinding spices and milling grains. For coffee? Not so much.

Whirly birds require a bit of finesse to get the grind right. Grind it too much and your beans are pulverized into powder. Not enough and there won’t be enough contact with the water to really draw out the nuanced flavors of your expensive beans. Now, I’ll be the first to tell you that I believed all of this was total hogwash - how much difference can the size of my grind really make?

The alternative to the blade grinder is a burr grinder. Burr grinders work in a similar fashion to the millstones that used to turn wheat into flour. Both use two abrasive parts to grind the material efficiently and thoroughly. In the case of a burr grinder, the two parts are a conical chunk of metal and a ring that closely hugs the cone, both riddled with course teeth. Burr grinders provide for far greater control over the size of the grind by separating the cone from the ring by a fixed amount. As a result, only beans that have been ground to the right size are allowed to pass through to the basket below, increasing the chances that each grain of coffee will be the same size as the last.

My beautiful wife graced my life with such a device for Christmas this year - a Solis Maestro. The beans are fed through the cone-ring setup through a hopper situated on the top. Turning the hopper causes the cone to move closer to the ring, decreasing the size of the resulting grounds. According to the markings along the bottom of the hopper, this baby can grind for anything from a french press all the way down to a fine turkish brew.

After much experimentation (and much, much coffee) I determined that the markings aren’t quite that accurate. If I set the ring to the position marked for espresso, the grind was far, far too small. Moving it up about five clicks solved the problem, as indicated by that first, sweet cup. With the whirly bird, it was a hassle trying to get that perfect shot of crema - the golden foam that grazes the top of a perfect pull. I had initially blamed my machine, one of the low-end Gaggias, but oh how wrong I was. I now get perfect pulls every time, each with a sweet, thick dollop of crema.

Speaking of sweet, I had often heard that a perfect shot of espresso was so sweet on its own you’d swear someone had added sugar to it. After tossing back many a bitter brew, I dismissed that as a myth. The perfect grind, however, opened my eyes wide. An espresso shot can be almost as sweet as candy with an extra kick. It’s remarkable how big a difference the grind alone makes.

But the perfect cup has still not been attained. At my local purveyor, Pacific Bay in Walnut Creek, they brew a coffee from beans roasted weekly on the premises that knocks the socks off of anything I can get at home. I have probed and prodded for their secrets and will continue so that I may share them with you. Stay tuned while I continue on my quest. In the meantime, send your best vibes my way as I work to maintain a status of marital bliss while stealing erstwhile glances kitchenward where the sweet nectar of my dark mistress awaits.