As much as I want to cry myself into oblivion for all the things I’m not getting to do, I figured a better use of my time would be to look for the positives, no matter how small. I have a home with a study and lots of books, I have no children, I have wine, I have food and I have internet.
Bringing Italy Home
I resurrected my old espresso machine. I’ve had it for maybe a decade and never really used it; it was long before I was a barista so I wasn’t too sure how to use it properly. It was a happy prop. I dug it out of the shed at mother’s house and brought it home and I finally got round to ordering a milk jug from Amazon. I already have a few different coffee syrups so it was time to set up my home coffee shop!
I can start my morning in true Italian style with a milky soya cappuccino before switching to espresso or black americano for the rest of the day.
Or when it’s late and I’m feeling chilly I can have my winter speciality of a Cinnamon steamer: steamed soya milk over cinnamon syrup and topped with a generous dash of cinnamon powder.
Ha! Just saved myself £3 a drink. I’m having fun getting to play barista again, and once it’s all over I can serve my guests proper hot drinks. I used to get compliments on my hot chocolates and mochas, not that I could drink them… But that’s something to investigate post-Corona, vegan hot chocolate powder!
What’s the cost to you?
Now that I’m master of my own coffee again, and that I haven’t overpaid for coffee in about 9 weeks, I’m honestly doubting whether I could ever go back to that. In the olden days when we actually left the house in the morning and took public transport to work, I used to make a large coffee in my reusable coffee cup and chug dark perfection awkwardly while I read about the destruction of Carthage. If said black magic hadn’t woken me sufficiently by the time I got off the bus, I would be tempted as I passed Caffè Nero en route to work. Really it depended on just how exhausted I felt and at what point in the pay cycle I was at. On the times when I did purchase said coffee, it was rarely worth it. Don’t get me wrong, I love Caffè Nero for the most part, however considering they charge £2.70 for an Americano it only seems right to pay the extra 50p or so to make it a latte instead. But then I ask for soya milk and they groan, and find the old yellow stickered jug and steam whatever is left in it and after a good long while of waiting, they pass me a scalding, burnt-tasting, toffee-coloured drink and I feel instant regret.
Filter for life
Say what you will about Starbucks but every store has a filter coffee machine, plus it’s only around £1.55 for a small, sorry, Tall filter coffee. They’re always very sweet about it, especially if they say it might be a wee wait because they’ll brew me a fresh pot, or if they’re out for the day they’ll make me an Americano for the same price. (The filter truly tastes better though). And if you get the drink to sit in, refills are free for filter coffee, which is perfect for a day of studying.
Some of the larger Costa stores have a filter machine, but I’ve never actually been in when it’s worked or when they can be bothered using it. My own local Costa is a moderate size and I can see they really don’t have space to put in a filter machine, but I’m probably going to be suggesting this when everything goes back to ‘normal’.
If I can make fancy coffees at home, can I ever go back to paying nearly £4 for one? Filter coffee is cheap to make and if even Starbucks can give free refills then I think every chain can recognise the benefits of offering a cheaper, equally tasty, alternative to people who’ve learned they can survive without the unnecessary expense, though who may miss the atmosphere and social aspects of being around people.
I’m curious to see how we will go back, we’re all creatures of habit. I miss hanging in Waterstones and going to the pub for a drink and a chat, but it’s not clear yet how we can return to jam-packed bars, suffocating concerts and busy rush-hour public transport. But I’ll be drinking cappuccino until then. (And I wholeheartedly advise anyone who can and is interested into purchasing a wee espresso machine.)
And on that happy note, coffee hours are now over; it’s wine o’clock.