writing coffee

It is said that once upon a time in Dublin, Ireland, there was a bartender who fell in love with a woman who liked to drink coffee.So he added coffee to Irish whiskey and made a coffee cocktail for her called Irish Coffee.

I heard that there is another novel that records this beautiful love story.I don't know if the novel is adapted from a real story, or people have sung the plots of the novel into classics, I have no intention of exploring.Because my coffee shop does not sell Irish coffee.

The reason is simply because it is too complex.Its complexity lies not in the formula or process, but in the fact that its production process is too ornamental, and it even has a set of exclusive brewing utensils.

The barista pours the finest Irish whiskey into a special roasting cup for Irish coffee, adds coffee sugar, roasts it carefully on the alcohol lamp, and at the same time tells a touching love story, then injects the mellow coffee liquid, and finally decorates it Beautiful circles of cream.Such a production process is more attractive to people who come to a coffee shop to drink coffee than the taste of the coffee itself.

This baffles me because I'm the type of barista who doesn't like to chat with customers.I know and have seen a lot of humorous baristas. They like to share everything about coffee with customers, like friends, very harmonious and warm.But I like to make coffee without saying a word.Or, I just like to keep quiet, and it has nothing to do with whether I make coffee or not.I want my relationship with my guests to be just that they like my coffee and my book.

Having said that, of course, I also have a set of Irish coffee equipment, and I once burned several cups to make a touching cup of Irish coffee, but later, it was just decorated as a piece of art in a certain place in the store, I often even forget that it exists... so there must be a reason why I am suddenly interested in talking about it and talking about it so much.

The reason I blah so much is because, someone broke it.

"Ah, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I'm sorry..." The girl apologized to me hurriedly, a little at a loss.

I watched her accidentally touch the baking cup with her elbow, and watched it fall wobbly. I just didn't have time to stop it, so I just raised my eyebrows when I heard the sound of glass shattering. Then watch her apologize in a panic.

I feel a little regretful, after all, it is quite special, and the glass shards on the ground are so troublesome to clean up, so the tone is a bit lazy, "It's okay..."

Normal people would feel sorry for it, but the girl looked like a normal person, so she said, "I'm really sorry, I'll pay you back! Or, I'll buy you a new one and give it back to you!"

"No, it's okay, it's not the first one to be broken." It's a fact, I shrugged my shoulders to show that I didn't care, and walked out of the bar, ready to take tools to clean up the scene.I really don't care much, it's not something valuable, and she didn't mean it, the point is, her apology is so sincere, I have no reason to care.

The girl widened her already big eyes, showing a very curious expression, "Ah? Why?"

I didn't bother to explain, so I just smiled.

The girl is a regular customer in my store. As for the regular customer, my understanding is that the first time is a new customer, the second time is a repeat customer, and the third time is considered a regular customer. ——Today is the third time she has come to my shop for coffee.I remember it so clearly because she looks cute and cute, she is well-dressed but natural and unaffected, she is always polite and well-educated, I like this kind of girl.I mean, I admire people like that.

When I took out the garbage shovel and broom, she was still standing there, like—how do you usually describe it?Like a deer that should bow its head and sip the lake water, it looked at me, the intruder, vigilantly and curiously across the clear lake.Did I understate it too much, making her even more at a loss?

Fortunately, a real regular customer came in at this time to pick up the "Costa Rica" cooked beans he ordered.

"Uh, why don't I clean it up?" the girl asked suddenly, her eyes sparkling.

I looked at her in surprise, she didn't wait for me to answer, she patted her head, and added: "I broke it in the first place, and you don't want me to pay for it, I'm very embarrassed~"

Now I was really surprised, I thought she was an extremely shy girl, the kind who would blush too hard to speak when she was embarrassed.Because every time she comes to drink coffee, she stays for a long time, but she reads a book quietly in the corner, and hardly talks to me except ordering coffee.If she hadn't accidentally broken the cup this time, she should have been able to finish reading "Writing Coffee" before leaving... But judging from the tone of her last sentence, it is obvious that I misunderstood her.

"Thank you, be careful not to be cut." I was also polite, handed her the tool, and went to get the beans.

"Costa Rica" is produced in Costa Rica, a low latitude in Central America. High-quality single-origin coffee beans are generally named after the place of origin. I personally like this naming method, which has a kind of warmth of drinking water and thinking about the source.Although there are still differences in flavor between coffees from different regions in the same country, Costa Rican coffees seem to have a clear acidity and excellent sweetness.

So Costa Rica has a long-standing reputation in the coffee world.It is very interesting that such a small country, which can be said to be unknown in the world, shines in the world of coffee, which is like an ingenuity of fate.

Sending off the guests, the girl has already cleaned up the scene of the crime, standing there waiting, as if waiting for me to accept the results.

"Thank you~" I responded with a sincere smile, and took the broom and garbage shovel, "Do you still drink Yirgacheffe today?"

"En!" She nodded vigorously, like a primary school student, and then widened her eyes again, "Do you remember?"

"En. You go and sit down first, and I'll take it for you later."

"Good~"

As a result, when I finished putting away my things and came out, she was still standing on the edge of the bar and asked me cautiously: "Can I watch you make coffee here?"

"Okay." I replied lightly, and couldn't find a suitable reason to refuse for a while.

Usually, if there is no special request from the customer, I will choose hand-made coffee.I like the process of hand pouring and every utensil used in this process, as well as the unique "indifferent" temperament that this "drip filter" extraction method gives coffee.

Put a pot of water on the side to boil, prepare the filter and sharing pot, fold the filter paper, weigh 20g of coffee beans, the water is almost boiled, wash the filter paper, ceramic filter and glass with boiling water The sharing pot was also warmed up.I turned around and picked a set of coffee cups from the wall behind the bar counter. They were made of porcelain, the saucer and the body of the cups were spotless, but the ears of the cups were a bunch of bright red coffee cherries, which looked like they were ripe, really delicate and lovely. .

Pour half a cup of hot water into the cup and keep it warm. When the temperature of the water in the pot drops to around 90°C, the beans are also crushed into powder in the grinder, and the trapped aroma escapes, spreading in the surrounding environment. quietly filled the air.Then the hot water flows down the thin gooseneck, and the coffee powder slowly expands on the filter paper. This process is very wonderful, like a flower blooming in front of your eyes.Then the water flow continued to fall, and the coffee powder rolled under the foam until the liquid level of the coffee in the sharing pot touched the 200ml mark, and I removed the filter.

Even though I'm used to taking my time, it took me less than 10 minutes.The girl kept watching, and if she expresses any opinion, or asks any questions, or even just sighs, I will not give her a second chance to stand here.

But she didn't say a word the whole time, until I poured the coffee into the cup specially selected for her and handed it to her on the saucer, then she smiled and said to me, "Thank you!"

It just won my heart.

"My name is Jian Qianli, Qianli with thousands of pear trees blooming." She spoke again suddenly, finally a little shy, "May I know your name? An English name is also acceptable..."

English name?I couldn't help laughing, she was thinking of the kind of chain coffee shop where every employee has an inexplicable English name pinned to his chest?

"I don't have an English name, you can call me Murong."

Murong Shi, this is my name.