Today, I had the pleasure of brewing my own coffee using a French press—a first for me. Growing up, my idea of coffee was limited to 3-in-1 packets. Everything was there—coffee, sugar, and just enough creamer to match the intended “flavor” profile: mild, strong, or simply ordinary. It was convenient, predictable, and a staple for most households, mine included.
When I left my hometown to study in Manila, my relationship with coffee began to evolve. This was around the time coffee culture started gaining traction. Big chains like Starbucks were sprouting up everywhere, quickly followed by smaller, lesser-known cafés. It was fascinating to see how coffee was becoming more than just a beverage—it was a lifestyle. Even back in my hometown, where cafés were once unheard of, the coffee scene had started to flourish.
I’d heard of French presses before but never really gave them much thought. As someone with little experience in making coffee beyond instant packets, the idea of manual brewing seemed intimidating and, honestly, more expensive than it was worth. For the longest time, my coffee experiences revolved around instant mixes or the occasional brewed coffee from a café.
That changed a few years ago when I inherited a coffee maker from a colleague who left the country. It was my first real introduction to brewing coffee, and I loved learning the process. At my old workplace, a colleague brought his own coffee maker, and I’d enjoy the occasional cup he brewed for whomever was there, still toiling away. Eventually, I learned to use the machine myself, savoring the process as much as the result.
Later, my sister brought home a French press, and I had the chance to watch her use it. I remember thinking, So that’s how it works. She left it at home along with the coffee maker, and I’d use them occasionally—though not often enough to call it a habit. Weeks, sometimes months, would go by without me touching either. For the most part, I stuck to tea or instant coffee, usually Nescafé, because it was just easier.
Recently, though, I felt inspired to dive deeper into the world of coffee. My sister had bought some beans a long time ago, and I decided it was finally time to put them to good use. I couldn’t find her coffee grinder, so I bought one for myself. While browsing online, I stumbled upon a French press that caught my eye. It came beautifully packaged in a gift box, with a charming old-school aesthetic that perfectly matched the vintage-style grinder I had chosen. It even came with its own pack of coffee beans.
Although I haven’t opened the beans yet—I still have some leftover ground coffee to finish first—I couldn’t resist trying out my new French press. Brewing coffee this way felt so intentional, almost meditative. It’s a far cry from my instant coffee days, and there’s something satisfying about the process: grinding the beans, pouring the hot water, waiting, and finally pressing down the plunger.
This little ritual has become a quiet anchor in my busy life. These days, coffee accompanies me as I work through endless tasks and looming deadlines. It’s a small comfort, a reminder to pause, even if just for a moment, and savor something simple yet meaningful.
Looking back, I never imagined I’d be brewing my own coffee with a French press, let alone grinding beans or curating my own little coffee corner. It’s a small step, but it feels like a personal milestone—a reminder of how much life can evolve, in both big and small ways.
For now, my coffee journey is just beginning, and I’m excited to see where it takes me.
photo credit: Melike B on Pexels