My Friend the Espresso Machine

*While going through old notes from New Zealand, I found this essay I wrote about making espresso in the mornings at my dorm, but had never posted. Mind you, the coffee in the cover photo for this post is from a restaurant, not me!

We meet at dawn. The air still cool. Rich, dark brown powder trips over itself on a journey into the luminescent silver tray. A faint orange light, like the eye of some ancient subterranean being, flicks on.

A whining arises, and it quickly turns into a screech. It’s shrill enough to break a window, or maybe even your sense of self.

I felt kind of bad while steaming my milk because I probably killed some cats with all the noise. But I do want that frothy sweet wonderfulness in my coffee. I apologize to anyone whose room is above the kitchen! It’s always quiet in the videos, where the hipster coffee dude shows you how to steam milk in his trendy little cafe.

I have much to learn in the art of combining caffeine and fat. I did read the directions for this machine, mind you. I actually looked up the brand and model and downloaded the user manual, so I wouldn’t have to stand before the great thing for hours, too scared to touch any of the buttons.

Nevertheless, don’t be shy! Say hello to your local espresso machine today!


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