Okay, enough of the poetic heading Izzy. I’m not actually that talented to write an ‘ode’ to this subject, this is just something I briefly wanted to touch upon again.
I say again since I wrote a post similar to this a few years back now (cue feeling old). It detailed a civil war in the coffee industry regarding independent and chain shops, and how it seems to be commonplace that if you enjoy one you most likely will not visit the other for some strange reason. I basically outlined that each style of coffee shop has their perks, and one should not be shunned off against the other.
See? You don’t even have to read that article now.
However, in this article I intend to scare you lovely ladies and gentlemen even more, and detail something you may not have thought myself; a barista in the third wave coffee scene for almost five years now, and what I secretly enjoy.
And that are crappy cups of coffee.
I don’t usually use the term ‘crappy’ but I feel this is almost reserved for this kind of coffee. You know, the ones you get on a midnight travel trip at a petrol (read: gas if you’re American) station or the ones you pick up when you’re on holiday and you have no other choice.
I don’t know about you, but I seem to pick up these crappy cups of coffee on special occasions. Times when your attention is focused on something much more important and special for you to really google a speciality coffee shop to go visit. Instead, you’re venturing over to that coffee vending machine and pressing either 'coffee’, 'tea’, or 'hot chocolate’. No americanos, flat whites or piccolos in sight.
You may call me crazy, but growing up in my working class family who still badger poor baristas when ordering (“I just want a normal cup of coffee, is that too much to ask?!” *shudder*), I’ve grown accustomed to these paper cups in hospitals, or those little white ceramic cups of brewed stale beans which you enjoy on holiday from your balcony.
Sometimes I don’t mind missing the tasting notes of blueberry, honey, and treacle (as you see on many speciality coffee bags nowadays) and go for a typical black or white coffee. There’s something fun about it in my mind, and it also reminds me of those cool refillable cups you get at Disneyworld which completely made my holiday mornings a couple of years back.
So the next time you see one of those vending machines with crappy coffee, don’t completely shun them off. When you see an automatic coffee machine, don’t scoff. There’s a time and place for them, and they’re fun and reminiscent of the past when we all weren’t so educated on the third wave coffee scene.
Saying that, if there’s a fancy independent coffee shop next door I would definitely recommend giving that a visit instead.
I mean, I’m not that crazy.
Enjoy your evenings, my tea leaves and coffee beans. And remember to keep sippin’.