Stainless Steel French Press with Double Wall Insulation and Mesh Filter

$100.00

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Capacity: 350ml 350ml 800ml 1000ml

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A French press with a double walled stainless steel body, so what is left in the pot after the first cup is still worth pouring. It brews exactly the way every press has always brewed, and then it behaves like a flask instead of a jug.

No glass to crack. No chrome cage. No lukewarm second cup. Grounds in, water in, four minutes, press.

The brewing was never the part that went wrong

Four minutes and a plunger is not an idea anyone needs to improve. What nobody warns you about is the twenty minutes afterwards, when a glass press quietly gives up everything you just put into it and starts handing over something tepid, because a single skin of glass in a chrome frame is, in heat terms, a window.

So you drink the first cup faster than you meant to. You leave the rest standing. By half past eight you tip it into the sink and put the kettle back on, which is a strange way to treat coffee you ground yourself twenty minutes earlier.

Two walls of steel, with a gap in between

This is not a jug with a jacket around it. The body is two separate skins of 304 stainless steel with a sealed hollow between them, and the air trapped in that gap is a poor conductor, so the heat leaving your coffee has to work at it. A pot that would have gone flat and cold on the counter stays hot enough to be worth a second and a third cup instead.

The same gap works in the other direction. The outside of the pot never gets as hot as what is inside it, so picking it up in a hurry is not an event, and setting it down on a wooden table is not either.

What a glass press costs you sooner or later

Every glass press ends the same way. The beaker is thin, it lives next to a sink full of hard crockery, and one morning it meets a tap. Then you are measuring a diameter and hunting a replacement carafe that fits the frame you still own.

There is no glass in this one anywhere. The body, the lid, the rod, the knob and the screen are all steel, and the whole mechanism is one plunger travelling down one polished cylinder. It goes in the sink like a saucepan.

The last inch of the pour is where a filter gives itself away

Grit in the bottom of the mug is not the coffee's fault. It is a screen that does not quite meet the wall, so the fines slip past the edge of it on the way down and wait for you in whatever you pour last. The screen here is fine and it carries a coil spring wound right around its rim, and the coil is the part that rides against the steel and sweeps it clean on the way down.

Three sizes, and they are the same press underneath. The 350 ml is a large mug and a top-up, the 800 ml is a pot for two people at a table, and the 1000 ml is the one that gets a Sunday morning as far as lunch without a second boil.