Dark Roast

In our modern, high voltage times, there's few perks to being powerless.  The only thing worse than waking up to no power is not having the coffee to cope with it.  It's bad enough being deprived on a good day, let alone one where your house is 48º and you can't even shower because your well pump is as functional as the IRS.  Thanks to the cooperative incompetence of monopoly-holding utility companies with our collective proverbial balls in a vice grip and the "crisis management" politicians who afford them the disincentive for bringing their grid into the 21st century (or even the 20th), this is becoming an increasing problem in places like Upstate New York and Southern New England, where trees abound and the hilariously archaic Teddy Roosevelt-era technology of wire on ceramic insulator on rotting wooden poles are perpetual targets of deep-rooted assassins.  What also makes these areas so incredibly great is that, aside from being some of the highest taxed in the nation, residents receive virtually no basic services, are reliant entirely upon well water (needs power), septic (needs water), and also facing frigid temperatures (needs coffee, which needs water and, for most people, power).  So when the power goes in these places, you're pretty, well, boned.

Unless you live in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, you're probably not prepared for two, three, four or more mornings without juice, and if your per diem perk comes from a Keurig or Mr. Coffee, you might not have a backup plan in place for your brewed awakening.  So if the status quo of our crumbling infrastructure chooses to torture you in this way, here's some hints at solving what will certainly be the least of your problems.

Rule 1) Always keep at least a two day supply of pre-ground in a cool, dry place.
Sure it won't be fresh, and you never know when you'll need it—but unless you've got an old school manual grinder handy, it's this or instant.  What's crap coffee on a good day beats nothing on a bad day.  Stocking a stash of pre-ground could save your sanity.

Rule 2) Be ready to fire.
This is when pyromania proves productive.  With wattage-requiring heat sources out, you'll need fuels for open fire.  If you've got a gas stove, fireplace, or BBQ grill, then great, fantastic, you're set!  If you don't, well, crap.  Consider keeping a butane torch, or canisters of chafing fuel like Sterno, in your emergency kit.  Yankee Candles aren't exactly economical, nor put out nearly enough BTUs, but I suppose a bold last resort.

Rule 3) MacGyver.
It's only human to be under prepared, so plan appropriately expecting an inevitable cruise or two on the failboat.  In our recent 6-day episode, I failed to abide by Rule 1 by replacing the pre-ground stash I depleted during the 5-day one preceding it by barely two months.  I solved the problem by bringing the battery backup off my Mac into the kitchen, plugging in the grinder and, in a moment of longing for instant gratification, even tapped in the Keurig for a cuppa.  (The remainder of the charge then replenished my MacBook battery, which was in turn draining to recharge my iPhone).  Best investment ever.

So even if you're stuck opening your garage door by hand and you smell like the sweaty leg of an Occupy Wall Street protester that's been in a cast for two months, you don't have to drive somewhere for overinflated caffeination.  This concludes my potentially pointless post.