One of the things I love about Portland is that several of my favorite coffee shops in the world are located within walking distance of where I live—at least if you’re not allergic to walking. Yesterday, I went into one of them with a friend and ordered a cappuccino with a specific coffee off the board. The barista cut off our order with a glint in his eye and said:
“Nope. Sorry, you’re not getting that one. We’re giving you something else.”
“Oh really? What is it?”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll love it.”
It was definitely one of those moments where you know that a treat is about to be given to you and you should just shut up and enjoy it. Oh, lordy. Did I enjoy it, indeed. Loved it. Holy moly.
I think it was one of the best cappuccinos I’ve had in a very long time. Rich. Complex. With maybe a hint of bourbon and a slightly pleasing sort of smokey flavor I’m not sure how the hell to describe because I’m not quite that geeky with my taste discrimination. Amazing.
Today, I went back:
“So, um, what was the name of that really tasty stuff you gave me yesterday?”
“Why you gotta be like that? Don’t mess it up like that. Just enjoy it…”
Catching on to the game, I leaned in close and said:
“Fair enough. I don’t care what the hell it was called. I just want another one…”
I thought for a moment, decided I might have been slightly too brusque and direct and maybe even a bit demanding in my tone, so I added with my best smile:
“Please…?”
Would you believe it was even better today than yesterday? Incredible. It’s that kind of thing that you look over at the barista, give a knowing nod, and get the nod back. I took a photo of it, but I think it’s better if I don’t give away too much about where to find this magic cup. I just hope that they have a little bit of it left over tomorrow before I leave town again on Sunday.
Posted by James Duncan Davidson.