If you don't already own a bag from the Ziploc Corporation, you simply must purchase one immediately! They may cost a bit more, but I believe, as I'm sure you do, that there is no price cap when it comes to quality. And unlike bags by Gucci or Coach, Ziploc bags seal. Essential for our next steps.

Pour exactly 56 coffee beans into your bag. Please use only a new ziploc bag, a reused one simply will not do.

The Campbell's has been manufacturing condensed soup for over a hundred years. The delicate balances of salt, tomato paste and sugar in their Tomato soup will delight any palate.

Smash your coffee bag with the can, super-hard, just over and over again. For inspiration, I like to imagine the bag contains the head of the House Minority Whip.

Explore the bucolic charm of tap water. It may not have been honored with a prestigious Blue Ribbon, as have the other beverages I consume, but it remains a perennial favorite at the Baxwelle residence nonetheless.

Gently, increase the temperature in the pot until it babbles on and on, like a tiresome Manhattan socialite at a nauseating downtown soiree.

With the sound of gurgling water in your ear, and the scent of freshly-pounded bean in your nostrils, you'll be tempted to pour the grounds directly into your eager maw. Resist! Patience at this stage will be well rewarded.

Now the brew must sit for a spell. I choose to divert myself from the hellish tedium with thoughts of the buxom Countess Wyndham and the time I took her for a bounce in the servant's quarters. How she shrieked with delight when I unsheathed my considerable talent! The servants, I dare say, were less impressed.

Then there was that memorable evening spent with Lady Conroy of Brussels. What began as an evening of drinks and idle chit-chat quickly escalated into a feverish night of strenuous gymnastic exertions that would have left the Imperial Society of Chinese acrobats scratching their heads in disbelief. Unfortunately she was a noisy lay and her enthusiastic hollering brought the Lord Conroy bounding into the room brandishing an enormous Enfield Muzzle-loader. What a miserable old bastard that fellow was.

When it comes time to liberate the finished drink from insipid slurry of deplenished grounds there are those who say a simple swatch of any sturdy paper towel will do. I agree... assuming you want your drink to taste of the pulp-mongers cauldron! No, send the nearest manservant down to the corner shop to procure a proper filter. A riding crop to the backside should send him off with the necessary haste.

With a quality filter place within a fine mesh sieve (any woman can tell you what that is) proceed to pour your coffee through into a vessel with a wide enough lip to accommodate the deluge. You may become dismayed at how long this takes. Perhaps you can buck up your spirits with a solemn prayer to the Queen, or a thunderous curse to her name. Whichever suits your fancy.

Almost There! A gentle shake will encourage the sieve to surrender the last drops of the earthy elixir, but be careful! Shake it no harder than you would a disrespectful baby, as infants and coffee alike have a damnable tendency to soil your breeches.

Now into the mug. The liquid should be rich and smooth with a velvet finish. Does the fragrance conjure visions of the humid oppression of remotest tropical wilderness? Good! You've saved yourself the trip.

Give the drink a swirl. It should be stripped entirely of the foul taint of crushed bean. Leave that to the Turks. Try to gain, if you can, a sense of the temperature of the coffee. Too hot? “Blowing” on it is of course not for polite company, but can be attempted if you proceed it with a cry of “Look at me everyone! I'm pretending to be a common guttersnipe!”

Maintenant il est temps de boire du café. Le café est délicieux. J'aime boire du café chaque jour. Les poissons ne peuvent pas exister à l'intérieur du café...

... Perfection.