>The day before Thanksgiving, I stumbled into the kitchen, as I do every morning, and made a beeline for the coffeepot. Made the coffee. Pushed the button. Listened to the gurgle as water poured out over my Sumatra blend. Inhaled the aroma. Then . . . volcanic rumblings came from the belly of the machine. Bubbling, spitting sounds. I looked at the pot. Scarcely a cup of amber liquid had dripped in. More sputters, louder groans, and then zip. An eerie silence echoed as my coffee maker died.
I don’t know about you, but at my house, this constitutes a domestic emergency. I know the earth’s rotation does not hinge on whether or not Carla has had her coffee. It’s close, though. Immediate action was called for. Braced with the ONE measly cup of coffee in my stomach, I scanned the newspaper for holiday bargains and shuffled through my coupons. I grabbed my keys and went shopping.
Nothing fancy. No bean grinders or espresso-making features to confuse me (or set me back an extra hundred bucks). I did want to upgrade from the cheap coffee makers we’d had the last few times (you get what you pay for). Here’s what I found: 
I LOVE my new coffee pot. The taste quality equals that of the famous coffee shop on the corner. The spout pours without a single drip. The brewing sound is a soft gurgle that lures me instead of setting my teeth on edge. It’s a match made in heaven.
If you’re in the neighborhood, come on over. Fresh coffee is waiting.