As soon as I get up in the morning, I put the water on to boil. While I wait, I grind the beans in a coffee mill.
I set the coffee dripper, made using the Kyoto wire-netting craft known as Kyo-kanaami, on top of my cup and get everything ready to brew. The copper, a color something like rose gold, catches the morning light and glints. For a while, I just look at the woven pattern of linked hexagons. My heart leaps, first thing in the morning.
Then I pour the water slowly. I watch the grounds swell, pour slowly again, and watch the coffee drip from the dripper. The smell of coffee fills the room, and I find myself taking a deep breath. Brewing coffee with this dripper has become one of the pleasures of my morning.
The first time I saw Kyo-kanaami, the beauty of the mesh caught my eye. I wanted to see it in person, so when I traveled to Kyoto, I visited the workshop. Among all the wirework on display, from tea strainers and grilling nets to plates and bowls, I chose a coffee dripper because I knew it was something I would use every day.
Glass and ceramic drippers are common, but a wire dripper is unusual. I felt certain that brewing coffee into my favorite cup each morning would become even more enjoyable.
I have brewed my coffee with it every morning since.
Each morning, as I brew, I enjoy looking at the weave and taking in the smell of the coffee.
The way the aroma spreads is different from what I knew with glass and ceramic drippers. The body is an open mesh, with air passing through its gaps. As I poured the water, I felt that the aroma of the coffee spread more widely.
In my hand, it is very light. Perhaps because it is woven, I hardly feel the coldness I would expect from metal. I have dropped or bumped glass drippers more than once and broken them, so it is a relief not to have to worry about this one shattering.
Tsujiwa Kanaami is a maker of Kyoto wire netting, founded in 1933 in Nakagyo Ward, Kyoto. Its artisans weave metal wire into kitchen tools and other everyday objects. Using a board studded with nails, they weave fine wire by hand, guided by touch, adjusting the thickness of the wire and the size of the mesh to suit each use.
Kyo-kanaami is said to date back to Japan’s Heian period (794–1185). While carrying on that tradition, Tsujiwa Kanaami makes long-established tools such as ladles for lifting simmered tofu and tea strainers, as well as pieces suited to how people live now, from hanging baskets to coasters. The coffee dripper is one of those newer tools.
The body of the dripper is woven in kikko-ami, a weave of linked hexagons. From the rim down to the opening at the bottom, the hexagons become gradually narrower, forming a geometric pattern. Looking at it, I sense the delicacy of an artisan’s work with fine wire.
The dripper holds a conical paper filter, rather than straining the coffee through the mesh itself. It is said that Yasuhiro Tsuji, a third-generation craftsman at Tsujiwa Kanaami, came up with the idea after learning about conical paper filters, applying the techniques used for tea strainers.
Tsujiwa Kanaami makes tools in copper and in stainless steel. With copper, there is also the change in color to look forward to.
For now, I know the bright, reddish color that catches the morning light. I look forward to seeing how it changes with use, and to noticing the passage of time in the weave I look at each morning.
Coffee or tea. When you make your usual drink, is there a shape or a glint of light that naturally catches your eye? At what moment do you notice its aroma?
On top of the cup, the copper weave catches the light. I pour the water slowly, the grounds swell, and coffee begins to drip from the dripper.
Let’s find a little happiness in these everyday moments.