Dear SBHC Community,
I was tired. That’s what it was; I was so tired. I will not bore you with the details, but suffice it to say that I brushed my teeth with Neosporin and spent the entirety of the dentist-demanded two minutes wondering if toothpaste can go bad. It was early in the morning, or was it late at night? I just don’t know any more, but regardless, it was time for a cup of coffee. Usually, once I get past my fourth cup all refinement and gustatory considerations disappear, and I am fine with a cold cup of black instant. However, at that moment, thousands of years of human development and self-preservation, as well as a futile attempt to avoid the devastating self-image of the depraved addict kicked in. I pulled out my French press and hipster coffee: a dark roast infused with notes of chocolate, fruit, and pretension.
After boiling the water, I poured the holy libation onto the coffee grounds and allowed it to sit undisturbed for the requisite four minutes (yes, I am aware that the proper time to allow the coffee to seep is a contentious debate in the poskim, but I am machmir). I then poured the coffee into my favorite daddy-affirming mug that I had bought for myself for my last birthday, added milk and stirred it with the closest available spoon.
As the caffeine kicked in, and the room began to come into focus, the pattern on the spoon solidified. Yes, my dear friends, it was a meat spoon.
What should I do with the spoon? The coffee? The cup? My sanity?
Yours truly,
Shmerel
Kli Rishon
התוחב כף חולבת בקדרה של בשר או איפכא משערים בכל מה שנתחב ממנו בקדירה (אם הכף בן יומו דהיינו ששמשו בו בכלי ראשון תוך מעת לעת) (ארוך כלל ל"ז) ויש מי שאומר שאם הכף של מתכת משערים בכולו משום דחם מקצתו חם כולו (וסברא ראשונה עיקר וכן נוהגין) (מרדכי וש"ד והגהותיו וארוך) (וע"ל סי' צ"ח):
Kli Sheni
Kli Shlishi
Chazon Ish

Reb Moshe Feinstien
