Musings of a Barista

I got six shifts this week! Time to rest up so I can be present with my customers. A year later, I still have to remind myself to take it easy, take it slow. I'm too much like a tornado...too many crazy weekend shifts that made me think that that was the norm. Watching the new hires who work so slowly and methodically, I realize that this is where I can get better, where I can develop an eye for detail.

A year into the coffee business, I find myself wondering how much of my views on the politics and philosophies surrounding the coffee industry are my own, and how much are those of my beloved company. Most of the coffee philosophy that I hear from my bosses seem utterly sensible. They are of the old world of coffee: when it was just a cup of joe, not the Holy Grail of Josephus; when an espresso was an elegant affair, not a cosmic explosion; when options were available, but not overwhelming. There is such a thing as too many choices.

As well, I don't believe in putting on airs where airs don't belong. Coffee enhanced my life a thousand-fold when it was introduced to me through this barista job. It gave me ritual-- an act that develops meaning through repetition--, it gave me an appreciation for the complexities of taste, and it attuned me to the possibilities of beauty contained in ingestible products-- beauty contained in a cup. Yet, as much as coffee has given me this past year, to me, it is still a product of the Earth and not a nectar of the gods, and for me to treat and serve it as such would be pure hyperbole and downright pretentious.

As a barista, I have made espresso a regular part of my daily life. I take a shot before almost every shift, partly so I can know my product and develop a palate over time, and partly for the sake of ritual. This is to say that I do believe the nuances exist, but number one: they are detectable by the human senses only to an extent, and that extent varies with each individual, can be developed, but takes time to develop, and number two: the ability to detect the nuances and describe them with flair has become a great big show of (mostly false) intellect, which I don't particularly care for. I did not leave the stuffy, recondite world of academia only to enter another high-brow, elitist coffee-stained ivory tower. Making coffee is a craft full of aesthetics and nuances. What it is not: a high art that is comprehensible only to the very learn-ed and designed to alienate the masses.  As a barista at La Colombe, I am happy to work for a company that does its best to tamp down such high-brow inclinations. What I hear from my boss-- in his albeit brash and theatrical way-- aligns with my own internal inclination towards simplicity and down-to-earthiness.

What else, what else? Coffee gave me a rich history to study, a field for the observation of human nature in a most interesting setting, and best of all, it gave me great co-workers. Of all the people I have met through this job, I have found the ones on my side of the bar to be the most interesting to study, perhaps because I have the privilege of working alongside them in such close quarters. If you are stuck in a tiny room with one other person for 6 hours at a time, and moreover are working in concert with them, it is difficult not to pick up on the deepest aspects of their character. But these are stories for a private audience.

As I stepped behind the register for the first time last June, I experienced for the first time rapid-fire service that put me in varying mental states from automaton to "there, but not really there". I experienced what it felt like to work as a team and fall into a rhythm that required less words and more eye contact and intuition to make it swing. I learned the importance of confidence and pride in one's work. I learned from the best-- by watching my colleagues-- the ones I call the "Classic Crew"-- and picking out the best aspects of each of their work-habits and trying to make them my own. I've learned that even behind this bar, we are not immune to disagreement, tension, competition, and the usual bullshit that surrounds work settings, and it doesn't matter whether it is mostly guys or mostly gals. Each gender has his or her own way of manifesting irritating behaviors and creating "drama". However, if the proper measures are taken, this job has the most uncanny ability to mask the negatives and bring out the greatest aspects of a barista's personality. I think I believe this anyway. I have faith.

Going back to the issue of coffee philosophy, what is coffee to me, a server of this prized and ubiquitous substance? It is in its spirit of communion, a drink that brings people together for conversation with ease, efficiency, and elegance; in its spirit of solitude, a drink that brings comfort to cold, sleepy mornings, or even to hot afternoons and evenings.