A few months ago I went on a mission to buy coffee filters, You know, those simple paper ones your (grand)parents probably used in the 1970s. I filled up the car with gas, picked up killer pies from prison (remember?), and got groceries. Everything but the filters. Because apparently, paper filters are now an artifact of the pre-pod, pre-piston era.
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| Photo Credit: DΛVΞ GΛRCIΛ: on Pexels |
I finally found a tiny pack of tea filters near the Turkish coffee pots and novelty gadgets. Good enough.
Why paper filters? Not nostalgia, actually: cholesterol. I discovered that unfiltered coffee contains something called Cafestol, a compound that can raise LDL (the “bad” cholesterol).Apparently paper filters catch most of it, but French press, espresso, and even fancy metal-filter coffee makers do not.
Listen to Dr. Siobhan Deshauer, a charming Canadian doctor explaining the facts, it starts at 3:00 in this video:
Since I drink my coffee black and strong, I figured I’d better try the boring old-school way before blaming my genes. So there I was in the accessories aisle, chasing a relic from the analog era in the name of cardiovascular responsibility.
While wandering the aisles, filter-hunting, I kept crossing paths with a young mother and her son, maybe four or five years old. She didn’t talk to him in baby voice, just like a regular person. He responded calmly, clearly used to being taken seriously.
They reminded me so much of my own son when he was little. Back when grocery trips were mini-adventures, full of random questions, the occasional treat sneaked into the cart, and thankfully, no public tantrums. We did, however, have our share of high-stakes negotiations about what exactly had to be achieved to earn a new Disney Car. Think: toddler diplomacy meets retail strategy.
Grocery Mom and I didn’t exchange words, but we did share a couple of smiles, the kind of brief, silent recognition you get when something about a stranger feels familiar.
And that’s where I stopped.
Because this is Switzerland.
Here, spontaneous small talk with strangers, especially outside your linguistic comfort zone, often feels like pushing against an invisible social code. There’s a cultural reserve, a respect for personal space, an unspoken rule that says: don’t intrude. It’s not unkind, just… quiet.
So there I was, filter in hand, feeling like I’d traveled back to a pre-pod era and maybe done my heart a tiny favor. And in that quiet aisle, a shared glance with Grocery Mom and her boy reminded me that even in Switzerland, where small talk is scarce and personal space sacred, tiny human connections still happen, like finding a paper filter in a sea of gadgets.
Have you ever heard that you can lower your HDL by avoiding Cafestol?
When was the last time something small and ordinary unexpectedly brightened your day?
PS: Two weeks from now I am going to find out if filtering out cafestol makes a difference in my bloodwork.

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