I like a good coffee, and I like finding new spots to have one. This weekend, I was pretty excited about finding a place called Cartel Coffee Lab down in Tempe (Ash and University). They seemed like the real deal, so Sarah and I went down there for a look.
First impressions were good ... the space is very cool. The problem began when I ordered my beverage: two shots of espresso over ice (I've named this the Brown Bomber, and it is my flagship drink once I had a touch of half and half). The barista reacted as if I'd asked for a Frappuccino.
"Oh, we can't do that," she told me.
I absolutely knew what was coming next, but I decided to play her game (and I hate doing this since I really like baristas a lot, but she left me no choice) ... an icy smile to match hers, an upraised eyebrow, and a pointed question: "Are you telling me you're not capable of pouring a few shots of espresso over some ice?"
"Cooling the espresso that quickly compromises its integrity," she said, as I knew she would.
The first thought to cross my mind is that I've spilled more shots than the barista has pulled, that I've had many a more experienced barista accomplish this with no snotty fuss, and that cooling it just might change the taste - but that doesn't mean that change is bad.
Sarah and I looked at each other and smirked. Then waited a few seconds.
"I could just make you a really dry iced Americano," the barista offered. I agreed, because I didn't feel like heading down to Bunna, or going to Conspire while John (the barista king) was on vacation.
So how was the dry americano? Pretty darn average. Even with a dollop of cream to thicken it up, it still had a funny, almond-like tang that I didn't really prefer. I never get that from the Brown Bomber, though!
The beer world also has people like this: They refuse to use adjuncts in their beer, and they're absolutely terrified of creative thinking and throwing a twist into brewing. That's what makes brewers like Dogfish Head awesome - the sense of adventure, the notion that aging something in an oak cask and throwing in some saffron can do something good for a brew. And it's no different with coffee. Stray off the reservation. Go exploring. There's probably something cool and new out there if you have the smarts to look for it.
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I had a similar experience last month when I entered a swanky new coffee shop a couple towns over. I asked for a regular coffee, and the barista looked at me as if I had asked her to serve me a cup full of caviar. She couldn't understand that I didn't want espresso, I didn't want syrups, and I didn't want anything steamed. I just wanted a plain cup of coffee.
Turning to her manager, she said in a panicked tone, "This lady wants just coffee! With nothing else! What do I do?"
Like the barista, the manager tried to coerce me into purchasing a $5 mocha skinny whosyjabbit. Unlike you, I had very little patience (not having had my coffee yet) and left the shop empty handed. I'm convinced they didn't even brew normal coffee there.
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