Six ways to make a cup

The V60 is the club’s default. It is fast, clean, and honest: if a coffee is fruity you will taste it, and if your grinder is uneven you will taste that too. The big spiral ribs and single wide hole mean the flow rate is up to you, which is both the point and the problem.

1. Fold the paper along its seam, set it in the cone and rinse it with hot water. This heats the dripper and gets rid of papery taste. Tip the rinse water out of the carafe.
2. Add 15 g of freshly ground coffee and give the dripper a shake so the bed is flat. Make a small dimple in the middle with your finger.
3. 0:00 — Pour 45 g of water to bloom, wetting every bit of the grounds. Swirl once. Fresh coffee will puff up and bubble as it releases carbon dioxide.
4. 0:45 — Pour slowly in small spirals from the centre outwards, avoiding the paper itself, up to 150 g.
5. 1:15 — Continue to 250 g, keeping the water level steady rather than flooding it.
6. 1:45 — Give the cone one gentle swirl so the bed settles flat. Let it drain. A flat bed with no grounds stuck high on the walls means an even extraction.

The most forgiving brewer on the shelf and the one most likely to come camping. Luka carries his in a bicycle pannier wrapped in a tea towel. We brew it upright with the plunger set in as a stopper, which avoids the famous inverted-method spill that cost us a tablecloth in 2021.

1. Put a paper filter in the cap, rinse it, screw it on and set the chamber directly on a sturdy mug.
2. Add 15 g of coffee and shake level.
3. 0:00 — Pour 220 g of water at around 85 °C, quickly and evenly.
4. 0:10 — Stir three times front to back with the paddle or a spoon.
5. 0:20 — Insert the plunger about a centimetre so it seals. This stops the coffee dripping through while it steeps.
6. 1:30 — Lift the whole brewer and swirl gently to knock grounds off the walls.
7. 1:45 — Press slowly and steadily for about thirty seconds. Stop when you hear the hiss; the last few grams are mostly bitterness.

Everybody owns one and almost nobody uses it well. The trick, which we resisted for a long time because it seemed too fussy, is patience after the steep: let the fine particles sink before you pour and you get a cup nearly as clean as a pour-over, with all the body of immersion.

1. Warm the press with hot water and tip it out. Add 30 g of coarsely ground coffee.
2. 0:00 — Pour 450 g of water just off the boil, all at once, making sure everything is wet. Don’t put the lid on yet.
3. 4:00 — A crust will have formed on top. Break it with a spoon and stir three times. Most of the grounds will fall.
4. 4:15 — Use two spoons to skim off the foam and the bits still floating. This is where most of the muddiness lives.
5. 8:00 — Put the lid on and press the plunger down only until it touches the surface — it is a strainer, not a piston.
6. Pour slowly and leave the last mouthful in the pot. Do not let the rest sit on the grounds; decant into a jug if you won’t drink it all.

Half the club grew up with a moka pot hissing on the stove, usually a dented aluminium one that nobody was allowed to wash with soap. It makes a strong, syrupy coffee that is not espresso and doesn’t need to be. The secret is to keep it gentle: hot water in, low flame, off the heat early.

1. Fill the base with hot water from the kettle up to just below the safety valve. Starting hot means the coffee spends less time cooking on the stove.
2. Fill the basket with fine coffee, level it with a finger and wipe the rim. Do not tamp. Packing it down blocks the flow and can make the valve blow.
3. Using a tea towel (the base is hot), screw the top on firmly and set it on a medium flame with the lid open.
4. When the first honey-coloured coffee appears, turn the heat right down. It should flow like warm honey, not spurt.
5. As soon as the stream turns pale and starts to sputter, take it off the heat and cool the base under a cold tap. This stops the bitter last bit from coming through.
6. Stir the coffee in the top chamber — the first and last parts taste very different — and pour.

Domaća kafa — “home coffee” — is what most of Serbia still drinks every morning, and what you’ll be offered in any kitchen within a minute of walking in. Call it Turkish coffee in Belgrade and someone’s grandmother will correct you, gently. It is brewed in a narrow-necked džezva, served unfiltered in small cups, and drunk slowly, leaving the grounds behind.

This is Dragan’s method. He is Milica’s uncle, has made it every morning for fifty years, and does not believe in thermometers, so the temperatures below are our translation of “not too hot, you’ll see.”

1. Measure cold water using the cups you’ll serve in — one cup per person, plus a splash for luck. Add sugar now if anyone takes it (one teaspoon per cup is “srednja”, medium).
2. Heat on a medium flame until tiny bubbles appear around the edge, just short of a boil. Take it off the heat.
3. Add a heaped teaspoon of powder-fine coffee per cup (about 7 g). Stir until it sinks and there are no dry lumps.
4. Return to the lowest flame you have. Do not leave the stove. Over the next minute or two a fine, dark foam (kajmak, the cream) will form and start to climb the neck.
5. The moment it rises, lift the džezva off the heat. Let it settle, then return it once more and let it rise again. Some people do this three times; Dragan says twice, and he has the trophy.
6. Spoon a little foam into each cup first, then pour slowly so the foam is preserved. Wait a minute for the grounds to settle before drinking. Serve with a glass of water and a piece of ratluk.

Belgrade in July is no place for a hot V60. Cold brew is the club’s summer survival plan: a strong concentrate made overnight, kept in the fridge for up to a week, and diluted with water, milk or tonic. It is low in acidity and very smooth, which makes it great for chocolatey coffees and a bit wasteful for delicate floral ones.

1. Grind 100 g of coffee coarse and put it in a large jar or jug.
2. Add 800 g of cold filtered water and stir until every ground is wet. Push down anything floating.
3. Cover and leave in the fridge for 14 to 18 hours. Room temperature is quicker (10–12 hours) but tastes muddier.
4. Strain through a sieve, then again through a paper filter or a clean cloth. The second filter is slow but worth it.
5. Bottle the concentrate and keep it cold. Dilute 1:1 with water or milk over ice; try it with tonic and a strip of orange peel.