You're Hot and You're Cold : I'm Judging You For Putting Cold Milk In Your Hot Coffee Then Getting Mad About It
Why deny yourself the opportunity to use the "authentic" French accent you get when you order a croissant?
I have been in coffee long enough to enjoy the wave of pretentious asshats saying coffee should be enjoyed on its own; to properly respect the tasting notes of 3 day vine ripened grapes, that sat in the sun for 37 minutes, on the third Tuesday in the 5th month, after the growing cycle. I also love a good anerobic with notes of whisky soaked Jolly Rancher to accompany my carnitas tacos. So when everyone was talking about halting the judgement of folks who drink milk with their coffee, I begrudgingly agreed. Idk, I’m a libra. I was born to judge.
To quote the great enough to be a musical genius but not great enough to refrain from CHEATING ON FREAKING BEYONCE, Jay Z, “What you eat don’t make me shit.” I legit support you enjoying coffee your way, because “I’m not a businessman, I’m a business, man.” You like it, you buy it, you tell your friends about it, and they come in and only tip me .37 cents unless the slightly pretty white boy that looks like Harry Styles is on the register.
Let’s real talk. Your barista may hate you. It’s probably deserved, hell, you don’t even like you in the morning. They don’t hate you because you drink milk in your coffee…They hate you because you refuse to buy a damn Au Lait. No. No. Don’t get defensive. You know you walked up to the register, asked for a 12 oz, but 3/4th filled. You asked if it was fresh; not because you can taste the freshness, but because you read a Buzzfeed article about stale coffee when you were shitting on the clock last week. Respect. So you asked, they probably lied, and got the pervasive joy that seasoned baristas sometimes get when we inconvenience difficult customers in minuscule and undetectable ways. Don’t kink shame.
You walked over, took 3 sips, and filled the space up with 1/4 a cup and 3 sips worth of cold milk. Now your coffee is as lukewarm as your marriage bed Janice, and you’re mad. Because we live in a punitive society, it would be unfair to expect any self reflection from you, but if you remember this is not a fair place. Someone MUST be at fault, and now that someone is the underpaid , under respected , and under motivated barista who just wants to oogle at the fitness coach while they scarfs down the overnight oats and a cold brew. But no. That is not on the schedule today, because your hot coffee is now lukewarm as hell after You poured 3 ounces and 3 sips of 32 degree half and half in it.
If I was a decent woman, I would better resist the urge to scream fortify, talk about your ashy ankles, and take away all milk and sugar from the to go bar. Grow up, and find your self at the bottom of the bitterness like the rest of us. Honestly, I don’t even mean that. It’s just fun to bully you. Don’t kink shame. Yummy and creamy coffee and milk is like dipping our toes in the neighborhood pool, located inside the cul de sac on Milk and Honey Lane. You know the good neighborhood in the great beyond, who’s neighborhood watch dips slave owners who made death bed apologies in honey and allow the ants to eat them, before they go be sentient compost in hell. Happy Black History Month.
Yes, coffee and milk is delicious. Yes, coffee’s flavonoids love to dance to your tastebuds on the lipids of heavy cream. But hot plus cold equals lukewarm, you know…like your tinder match with the collarbones carved of stone’s politics. So quit being cheap and order a damn au lait, hot coffee with STEAMED milk. You’re welcome.
Recipe: Home Au Lait
Brew Method: French Press
Dose: 24 g of coffee
Water: 275g
Oat Milk: to Teet or not to Teet is up to you. I pretend that it is Ghost Town Oats and I whisper scream MATERIAL GURRRL as it rotates in the microwave.
Grind Size: Coarse
Method: Pour in the French Press, let that bitch bloom for 45 seconds, and cover it. I let it brew while I follow the Gua Sha technique that I learned from @aisaorganics on Tik Tok. Maybe if I don’t have pores, my tinder matches will resist the urge to tell me that they’ve never “had a Black” before. Fingers crossed.
I whipped the warm milk and poured molasses and cinnamon in the coffee. Maybe the extra iron will help me get up quickly once someone starts screaming about how mask mandates are the same as the systemic and centuries long dehumanization of my people on this hemisphere…Happy Black History Month.
Pour in a fancy glass or chalice, and pretend that you have connections like the good sis Anna.
Enjoy!
Did you chuckle? I hope my Caffeinated C. U.Next Tuesday energy brings you some light…but not too much. Tip your barista like I’m the pretty skinny white boy barista, with a heavy bang, quarter sleeve, and says the phrase “devil’s advocate” so much it’s in his predictive text, of your dreams.
Venmo: Cydni-Patterson