“Good God,” he choked out. “How much ground coffee did you use?” Eleonore thought back to her calculations. With eight cups of water she ought to use…“Twenty-four scoops,” she said proudly. Ben was running the faucet and cupping water in his palm to rinse out his mouth. “Too much,” he said. “Way too much.” “Was it?” Eleonore frowned. “It tasted like horrible brown sludge, but isn’t that the point?”
