My Husband the ‘Coffee Hunter’: A Wife’s Account of a Home Taken Over by Coffee Gear

At a Glance (China Coffee Network): (Source: Nanhu Evening News) N Evening News reporter Han Yuchao, compiled Ms. Zhu: The counters in our Chinese and Western kitchens have completely fallen. Two coffee machines, tw…

(Source: Nanhu Evening News) N Evening News reporter Han Yuchao, compiled

Ms. Zhu: The counters in our Chinese and Western kitchens have completely fallen. Two coffee machines, two sets of pour-over kettles, plus a siphon that looks like chemistry lab equipment — bottles and jars crammed into every inch. These are my husband’s trophies. He calls himself a coffee hunter; to me he looks more like a collector with a compulsion.

“Clean” no longer describes our home; it is a coffee-flavored “laboratory.” That intense roasted aroma hangs in the air permanently, and the curtains have absorbed so many coffee molecules they feel sticky to the touch. Last week a neighbour came to borrow soy sauce, stepped in, sneezed and said, “Why does your place smell like a café?” I managed a wry smile while thinking: even a café isn’t as fully equipped as this house.

My husband is ordinarily as gentle as a lamb, but where coffee is concerned his stubbornness is enough to make you laugh. To prove that freshly ground is “nobler” than instant, he made my girlfriends do a blind taste test; all four chose the instant, saying it smelled better. His face went as green as an unripe avocado and he muttered that they knew nothing about life.

Even more extreme is his coffee diary: for every cup he records the origin, water temperature and grind size, then closes his eyes for ages after one sip with an expression more strained than mine during childbirth. A few days ago he insisted the milk I bought was ruining the coffee’s layers. I told him straight that if he kept being so fussy I would switch to ordinary milk, and he backed down at once, hiding the remaining half carton of special fresh milk at the very back of the fridge.

His roaster is the real disaster. One late night he took it into his head to roast beans; smoke filled the house and drifted out, tripping the corridor alarm, and the neighbours came running out in their pyjamas. He, meanwhile, clutched his precious beans and refused to let go, explaining to everyone he passed that this was “R&D.” I stood in the doorway for ten minutes wishing the floor would open up and swallow me.

Actually I know his obsession comes from the years at a foreign company when he worked late on proposals and stayed alive on this stuff. I had just become pregnant then; he even brought a thermos to the hospital when I went into labour, and the nurse assumed it held Chinese medicine. The night our daughter was born he walked her up and down the corridor, still clutching an unopened drip-bag in his hand — a scene both funny and a little heartbreaking.

By now we have spent tens of thousands of yuan on coffee gear alone. I complain out loud, but watching him stand at the counter in an apron, weighing beans and controlling water temperature with such seriousness, I feel that however stubborn he is, at least he is living with real warmth and energy.

The other day he carefully brought me a cup of a new creation, saying he had specially adjusted a low-caffeine version to suit my taste. I took a sip and, truth be told, it really was a little better than before. Life is like the pour-over in his hands: the filter paper holds the trivial bits of everyday life and lets them drip down one drop at a time — seemingly long and dull, yet all the warm, real feeling is inside it. In future I only hope he shows some restraint when buying new equipment.

Wan Jie has this to say: This husband’s love of coffee has reached the level of obsession. For him coffee is not a magic tool for “staying alive” but a genuinely important hobby in life, and he is utterly absorbed in this little “territory.” What is precious is that his wife complains with her mouth but quietly accepts it in her heart. She has not rejected his hobby outright; she has seen his love of life and felt that warm, vivid realness. A good marriage does not necessarily mean two people share the same hobbies and have no conflicts; it means mutual understanding and respect, and remembering, even while pursuing and losing oneself in a hobby, that there is a partner sharing this life. This wife is generous and accommodating, and the husband should think more about her feelings and leave more time and space for each other, so they can build a better family atmosphere together.

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