Let me Espresso My Surprise-o


I like coffee and particularly enjoy the espresso style. A good thing, because it is becoming more common here in Australia – nearly every café and restaurant serves it and I even have a Nespresso machine at home for my after-dinner cup. Users of this sort of thing know that there are as many different blends of espresso as there are advertising writers who can invent vaguely Italian names. One assumes the writers are named Julio or Ignacio or some such –  and that they come in sleeves of 12…

The cups you serve the stuff in also seem to vary like snowflakes. The Nestlé people periodically send an advertising book that has been hand-crafted from the trees of a vanished civilisation and in it they advertise cups, saucers, and little tiny glasses that presumably complete the artistic experience. Theyelevate you to a higher plane of consciousness. If you pay for a set by credit card you will be fully conscious when the statement comes in…

I have two sets from the local cheapie store at home – two cups and saucers in each with just enough volume to take the smaller shot of hot water that steams out the coffee liquor. If you essay to make a milkolattiokersplut or whatever the professional term is you need to do it in a plain old cracked china mug to accommodate the extra volume. Never mind putting shots of syrup or booze or diesel injector cleaner in the cup – you’ll just run the risk of blow-back. Drink that stuff from the bottle and make the espresso the regular way.

But this week at a multi fancy restaurant I was introduced to the tiny little thick glass tumbler trick – and was not impressed. It may be how they do it in an Italian railway station automat at 4:00 in the morning but it was awkward to hold and drink from and I don’t reckon I got as much coffee in there as in the regular tiny cup. All style and no substance.

Note for coffee lovers. ” Lovingly hand-roasted from beans that have passed through an animals digestive tract and sold at a fabulous price ” seems to be a new variant of the monkey brain scene in the Indiana Jones movie. I have no objection at all to coffee that has passed through one animal’s digestive tract as long as that animal is me. After I am done with it you may do with it as you wish.


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