Based on whatever knowledge you have of espresso machines, does that onomatopoeia sound healthy?
I’d never done the barista thing until this Sunday, when my friend Caroline and I worked a church espresso cart. However, I have spent lots and lots of time in coffee shops (1) eyeing baristas with bitter envy, and (2) watching espresso machines with utter fascination.
I mean, just look at that polished metal box. It’s as gorgeous and compact as a Swiss-made wristwatch. It huffs and it puffs and it innocently dispenses a dark, aromatic drink that holds the world captive each morning until they get a sip. What a design!
Oh, except when it gets finicky.
“WHAT DRINK WOULD YOU LIKE SIR?” I yelled, leaning in close.
We made quite a few lattes before a staffer appeared and put an end to the madness.
“You’re going to BLOW US UP!!” she said, pulling the plug.
For all my attempts at European suave, all I succeeded in was almost burning down a church. It turns out the espresso machine is a little more evil than it initially appears.
But there’s always next week!
(The monster agrees with a resounding GRACKLE)