The cold brew person has a system. They rotate carafes, they know their steep ratio, and they do not want a mug with a coffee pun on it. The gifts that earn real estate on their counter are the ones that solve the actual friction — a vessel that does not leach plastic into a 24-hour steep, a coarse-grind bean subscription that was built for immersion, a nitro setup that makes their Tuesday morning feel like a tap room.
“The one reliable rule of gift-giving: anything that makes them look more serious at what they love will be received with disproportionate gratitude.”
Friends claim items. No duplicates. No awkward conversations.