I'll drink to that
Has the Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino® Blended Crème Grande had its day?
With 87,000 coffee choices on offer from just one beverage chain – do we really need anything more than a decent espresso or latte? Would the coffee drinking world be a poorer place without skinny cinnamon dolce lattes with sprinkles?
Starbucks stock is falling faster than a widow’s face before botox. This is good news for baristas everywhere. I want just one good cup, not thousands of permutations in takeaway containers identical the world over. It seems maybe I am not the only one.
Confessions of coffee sins past
I have drunk at Starbucks once. Eugene, Oregon 1999. Long black. My British host in this strange land insisted I undergo at least 2 cultural experiences - a coffee at the aforementioned chain and one diner meal (6 different types of fat on the same plate). He thought it was fair that I understood how the average American ate. The rest of the time was spent eating organic food, dairy free Mexican with tofu on the side, coffee from the best little cart in town and massive, wonderful American breakfasts at local knowledge cafes. Needless to say, I haven't been back to Starbucks since.
I drunk a mocca once. Auckland, New Zealand 1985. I liked it. I was young. I didn't know any better.
I still drink the odd soy decaf cap. Ok shoot me. It's unforgivable. It's when I have already had a coffee and another will do my head in, I've never finished one yet. I eat the froth then have a sip. It just isn't coffee.
Since the Significant Eater moved in with the trusty espresso machine, I've rarely drunk coffee out. I know how I like it (double shot, Columbian, longer than a short black but much shorter than a long one). Why wait til you've got your clothes on to risk someone else's attempt at it?
The coffee confessional is now open. Feel free to leave your caffeinated sins in comment for absolution.
Update
The weekend just gone saw the running of the Australian Barista Championships. Even if the aforementioned chain eventually dies a slow death, I fear it is too late as our barista's appear to be infected. The fact that the competition calls for each maestro of the bean to serve up a 'signature coffee' is frankly alarming. But it is even worse to hear that those at the top of their profession are pandering to the judges to whip up concoctions like the following:
Ewww!
Congrats to Abbotsford barista David Makin for taking the crown, sans mushrooms.
With 87,000 coffee choices on offer from just one beverage chain – do we really need anything more than a decent espresso or latte? Would the coffee drinking world be a poorer place without skinny cinnamon dolce lattes with sprinkles?
Starbucks stock is falling faster than a widow’s face before botox. This is good news for baristas everywhere. I want just one good cup, not thousands of permutations in takeaway containers identical the world over. It seems maybe I am not the only one.
Confessions of coffee sins past
I have drunk at Starbucks once. Eugene, Oregon 1999. Long black. My British host in this strange land insisted I undergo at least 2 cultural experiences - a coffee at the aforementioned chain and one diner meal (6 different types of fat on the same plate). He thought it was fair that I understood how the average American ate. The rest of the time was spent eating organic food, dairy free Mexican with tofu on the side, coffee from the best little cart in town and massive, wonderful American breakfasts at local knowledge cafes. Needless to say, I haven't been back to Starbucks since.
I drunk a mocca once. Auckland, New Zealand 1985. I liked it. I was young. I didn't know any better.
I still drink the odd soy decaf cap. Ok shoot me. It's unforgivable. It's when I have already had a coffee and another will do my head in, I've never finished one yet. I eat the froth then have a sip. It just isn't coffee.
Since the Significant Eater moved in with the trusty espresso machine, I've rarely drunk coffee out. I know how I like it (double shot, Columbian, longer than a short black but much shorter than a long one). Why wait til you've got your clothes on to risk someone else's attempt at it?
The coffee confessional is now open. Feel free to leave your caffeinated sins in comment for absolution.
Update
The weekend just gone saw the running of the Australian Barista Championships. Even if the aforementioned chain eventually dies a slow death, I fear it is too late as our barista's appear to be infected. The fact that the competition calls for each maestro of the bean to serve up a 'signature coffee' is frankly alarming. But it is even worse to hear that those at the top of their profession are pandering to the judges to whip up concoctions like the following:
A NSW competitor, Hazel de Ios Reyes, came up with a creation that included chopped raisins, syrup, citrus zest, black truffles, baileys and porcini mushrooms. The savoury flavour impressed judges.
Ewww!
Congrats to Abbotsford barista David Makin for taking the crown, sans mushrooms.
