I don’t watch coffee influencers for the advice. I watch them for the same reason people watch street magicians. I know it’s a trick, I know how it works, but I still want to see them pull a rabbit out of a Chemex. The precise weighing of the beans. The dramatic slow-motion pour-over. The monk-like concentration as they swirl the cup, take a sip, close their eyes, and whisper: "Mmm… stone fruit, caramel, a little jasmine." Come on. We’re all just watching coffee ASMR with extra steps. Nobody’s taking notes. Nobody’s changing their technique. We’re here for the show. Brewing coffee isn’t hard. Everyone knows this. Pour hot water over crushed-up beans. That’s it. But then some guy comes along with a gooseneck kettle, a $500 scale, and the wrist precision of a sushi master, and suddenly you feel like an idiot for just using a normal coffee pot. It’s the same energy as watching a dude spend 45 minutes sharpening a knife before slicing a tomato. Will it work better than my dull Ikea knife? Maybe. But at some point, you’re just doing it for the performance. And the coffee influencers KNOW THIS.
Here’s the part I actually love: it doesn’t matter if they’re full of it. The coffee might be average. The tasting notes might be completely made up. But they make something stupidly simple feel worth caring about. That’s the real magic trick. Just don’t feel like you have to play along. I’ve made coffee half-asleep, with tap water, in a chipped mug, using beans I found in the back of the cabinet. No scales. No ceremonial swirling. No whispered notes of bergamot. And guess what? It still hit the spot. |
