Something interesting happens when you buy new equipment—any kind of equipment. You bring it home, maybe glance at the manual, and then you start playing with it. Moving parts around. Testing what it can do. Understanding its limitations.

I recently went through this with some new camera gear, and as I was adjusting legs and exploring how everything worked, my mind drifted to coffee. Specifically, to how we approach coffee equipment.

We buy coffee gear constantly. A new pour-over dripper here, a different grinder there. And there's nothing inherently wrong with that—we work hard for our money, and we want to enjoy what we're passionate about. The problem isn't in the buying. The problem is in how we use what we buy.

We've Stopped Thinking for Ourselves

Here's what typically happens: We watch videos. We read reviews. We listen to experts (myself included) tell us exactly how to use a piece of equipment. "Use this grind size." "Pour in three pulses." "Set your water temperature to 205 degrees."

We take all that information, buy the equipment, and then try to replicate what someone else told us to do. But we never really understand why we're doing what we're doing. We never take the time to truly learn the equipment for ourselves.

I'm looking at an Origami Dripper right now. I got it about a month ago, and yes, it's beautiful—it literally looks like a piece of art. But beyond its aesthetic appeal, this brewer is a perfect example of why understanding your equipment matters more than following someone else's recipe.

Look at What's Actually in Front of You

Take a close look at the Origami Dripper's design. Notice those concaves? They're not just decorative. The way this brewer is shaped creates maximum airflow between the filter and the walls of the dripper. That means faster brewing compared to something more enclosed.

But you wouldn't know that from just following a recipe. You only learn it by paying attention, by experimenting, by understanding the why behind the design.

The hole at the bottom? It's relatively large. Does that matter as much as we think it does? Maybe. Maybe not. The only way to know is to brew with it, taste the results, and see what happens.

The Experimentation Process

Here's what I want you to do: Pick one brewer. Just one. It could be the Origami Dripper, a Hario V60, a Kalita Wave—it doesn't matter. Use that brewer for a week. Better yet, use it for two weeks. Challenge yourself to use only that brewer for an entire month.

During that time, experiment:

Start with a fast filter like a Cafec paper. Brew a coffee. Taste it. How does it taste to you? Not to me. Not to some coffee influencer online. To you.

Change the water temperature. Does hotter water make it better or worse for your palate?

If your coffee tastes flat, adjust the grind size finer. If it's bitter, go coarser. Pay attention to what's actually happening in your cup.

Try different filters. The Origami Dripper is particularly interesting because you can use both cone-shaped filters (like Hario filters) and flat-bed filters (like Kalita Wave filters). Each will give you different results. A Kalita Wave filter is slower and has a smaller bed size compared to something like an April Brewer filter. How does that affect your coffee?

Want an even slower drawdown? Try Hario's slow filters. You might realize you don't need a different dripper at all—you can manipulate drawdown time just by changing the paper.

Experiment with cloth filters if you're curious about that application.

The point is to stay with one piece of equipment long enough that you understand everything it can do for you.

It's About Your Palate, Not Mine

I could give you my recipe right now. Three pulses. 35-second bloom. 205-degree water temperature. Grind setting X on grinder Y.

But why did I choose those parameters? What do I like in my coffee? Is it similar to what you like?

These are the questions you should be asking before blindly following anyone's recipe—including mine.

Maybe you prefer a one-pour brew method. Maybe you like to grind finer to bring out maximum sweetness. Or maybe you don't even taste sweetness in coffee the way I do. Maybe you're an acidity-forward person. Maybe you like your coffee tea-like and delicate.

It doesn't matter what I say. It comes back to you. Just you.

About 80-90% of the time, you're making coffee for yourself, alone in your kitchen. You are the only person in that arena. So why are you brewing coffee for someone else's palate?

The Consistency Problem

You want to make consistently good coffee, right? We all do. But here's the thing: the only real way to achieve consistency is to understand what you're doing. Not memorizing someone else's steps, but genuinely comprehending why each variable matters and how it affects your specific taste preferences.

I'll admit something here—I'm guilty of the opposite problem. I have about 15 different brewers. Four or five different grinders. I'm constantly changing things up, trying new equipment. And you know what? That actually works against consistency.

It's like weightlifting (something I do regularly). If you keep changing your routine every week, you never give your body time to adapt and get stronger. You need to stick with a program long enough to see results, to understand how it affects you.

Coffee is exactly the same. It's just something we happen to do every day. And anything you do every day, if you pay attention and stay committed to understanding it deeply, you'll get really good at it.

Find Your Coffee, Master Your Gear

Maybe you're drinking coffees that don't actually suit your preferences. Maybe everyone's telling you to try light-roasted, funky natural-process coffees, but you're actually more of a dark roast person. That's perfectly fine.

Find the coffees you genuinely enjoy. Get a small bag if you want to explore something new. Go on that journey. But also be honest with yourself about what you actually like versus what you think you should like.

Master your equipment. Understand it so deeply that you can make intentional adjustments based on what you taste, not on what someone told you to do.

At the end of the day, we're all just trying to make magical coffees for ourselves. Or at least consistently good ones. The path to that goal isn't through collecting more gear or following more recipes. It's through deep understanding of the tools you already have and honest self-awareness about your own palate.

Master your coffee brewer. Master your craft. You'll be a lot better off.