Bittersweet, a lament for coffee in America

This may sound heretical coming from a barista, but I consider myself first a coffee connoisseur and secondly an employed victim of grounded dreams and today’s increasingly popular coffee shop. So here goes.

I’ve fantasized about working in a coffee shop for a long time now; it seems like the perfect place to encounter artsy types of people who like weird music, organic food, have dreadlocks, tattoos, whatever. But hipsters and hippies be warned, the coffee shop has been degraded by corporate rule, and it’s more expensive than ever.

I finally scored a job in one such coffee shop this past summer, completely thrilled. The first week was “training”: a time to polish new employees’ mopping, ass-kissing, and video-watching skills. Among other valuable minute-long videos, “How to Make Whipped Cream” taught me exactly what 12 cents worth of whipped cream looks like beneath a plastic domed lid. The rest of my training was hands-on handing out of drinks to real customers. I’ll just take the time now, then, to apologize sincerely to all those middle-aged women who stepped on the scales after a week and blamed themselves for my mix-up of lowfat and heavy bases; all those people with caffeine aversions who were mysteriously wakeful for a six hour period on a work night; all those who sipped some liquid they deemed delicious only to find that their cup was left with an ice chunk of nothingness in no time. Not to undermine my heartfelt apology, but in my defense, as I ran back and forth tossing poorly timed espresso shots into blenders filled with fat and sugar, I was told I was doing well. If I admitted to tamping a shot of espresso badly, an extra pump of mocha was suggested…which brings me to my first complaint about the modern coffee shop: sugar and fat.

They’re delicious. Don’t get me wrong, flavored drinks have their place in the world and in the world of coffee shops. But our store sold almost entirely drinks drowning in fatty milk-based products or sugary syrups. The fact that people complained when their ESPRESSO drink tasted coffee-y could possibly be overlooked, if those few who actually wanted the taste of espresso weren’t so devastated by my second complaint: bitter espresso. Truthfully that should be my first complaint because you should not be able to succeed in a coffee shop with poor quality espresso, but as the solution is simply sugar and fat, no worries, right?

Wrong. My dad paid me a visit after my first week or so, and asked simply for a soymilk cappuccino. My fingers twitched over the register screen, waiting for him to say what flavor he wanted, but alas, none came. A cappuccino, as I know now, is made by tamping a shot of espresso into a cup, steaming milk to a foamy consistency without burning it, and pouring it directly onto the shot without stirring and ruining the layers of espresso. I did not do that. And it showed, as I believe my father’s exact words to his newly “trained” daughter were “Honey, this sucks.” He didn’t even want me to remake the expensive creation.

My point here is that people should be scared out of their minds if they are true coffee lovers and approach one of the many newly opened shops like this. The rest of you are fine. How do you know which you are? Well, if you are like the majority of customers who drive through and ask for your coffee black, with three splendas and an inch of cream, you're definitely fine, keep doing that. True coffee lovers know. For example, when I ask my dad how he’ll take it, every day of my life his response has been the same: "black like my soul". And I know not to add sweetness or caloric joy. But I also know that because the quality beans are freshly roasted and ground, there's no way his black coffee, or soul, could be bitter.

Modern day coffee shops do too much in the wrong areas and do too little in the right ones. There is too little training with too much pressure for speed and shortcuts, too many drinks to memorize and too few to perfect, and poor quality essentials at too high a price with too little spirit or care. I used to idealize working in a coffee shop, making drinks that even hardened connoisseurs like my father could compliment, but that experience was ruined for me by a place that shares its name with electric mobility vehicles used by the elderly. And as for those corporate assholes that are carelessly raking in profits from their expensive, disgusting drinks, underpaying and overworking employees, and most importantly, brainwashing society with sacrilegious ideas about coffee and espresso, thanks a latte.