One of the things my wife got me for Christmas was a new Keurig coffee maker. She got me a Mini Plus to replace my old one, which was a Platinum Plus that died a horrible, painful death. I loved the PP for the time that I had it, but unfortunately I had an experience that it seems a lot of people have… the thing just refused to do its assigned task, which is to produce hot brown water that prevents me from bringing harm to the people around me.
The PP isn’t really meant for a one or two person household, I don’t think. It kept water hot at all times, and had a healthy reservoir. Once the machine was first filled with water, it would never be empty again. No matter what you do, you can’t get the water out of it. You can cycle more through, but you can’t drain it out. Now, to me, that seems like a really incredibly stupid way to design a thing, but I’m a computer tech and not a coffee maker… maker. So I’ll let that go. The problem that developed with it was that it simply wouldn’t spit any of that water into a cup. It wanted to keep it all for itself, and in the meantime, my patience with it waned. I unplugged it, as though I had decided that would teach it a lesson. That’s something I’m guilty of, by the way… I try to reason with (and sometimes threaten) inanimate objects. After trying to reason with (and threaten) the coffee maker that I had loved so dearly, it became obvious that I had a decision to make. And so, with a heavy heart and a final cry of “Fuck this shit, man” I threw it away. The warranty had expired, and so had my dear friend, Captain Keurig.
I was completely surprised when I unwrapped the new Mini Plus that my wife had chosen for me. Undoubtedly moved by my outpouring of sorrow during the mourning period (which manifested itself as various strings of profanity) she had purchased a replacement! It’s not as fancy as the Platinum, and quite frankly, I love that about it.
“The more shit a thing does, the more ways it has to break.” – Me.
This little guy does not have a bizarrely sequestered water chamber, it has what industry professionals call a top part. You pour water in there. You lift the lever thing and you wait for the water to gurgle down into the machine. You put the little K-Cup in the little K-Cup holder, slam that handle down, press the living hell out of the brew button, and you wait. You stare at it, hoping that it’s not going to break, because you’ve basically lost all faith in Keurig, and you wait. Then, two minutes or so later, you drink coffee. Every time you make a cup of coffee, you have that same fear. I hope that maybe this simpler model will be a longer-lasting inhabitant in our kitchen. So far, so good!
But how does the coffee taste, I hear you asking.
Well… not great. Not horrible, but not great. It really depends on the K-Cup you use. So far the absolute worst one that I’ve had has been something that Emeril Lagasse put his name on for God knows why, and it was… rough. It was strong in a bitter way, and tasted like you had poured boiling water on the hell-roasted ashes of coffee beans. So, BAM and all that. The Folgers varieties are all pretty good. I’d love to be able to try the Dunkin Donuts variety, which is some of my favorite coffee to make at home, but last I checked they’d made a decision that I hope got someone in marketing fired and elected to only sell the K-Cups inside Dunkin Donuts. One, we don’t have one around here, and two, if I could go to the store and get a cup of coffee there, why in the hell would I buy K-Cups to take home? Surely I’m not the only person that finds that a bit silly. Still, the overall K-Cup experience is a pretty good one.
As long as this iteration of Keurig keeps putting out that calming ichor, I would recommend it. I like being able to grab a cup of coffee in a hurry (not because I’m so busy, but rather because I’m fucking impatient. Thanks for that, Internet.) and most of the time it’s a decent enough cup that I leave satisfied.