good stuff. Jamaican Joe’s espresso roast. Th e whol e beans, not ground.”
“Duh.” Taylor shook her head. “What am I, an idiot?”
Melissa raised her eyebrows. “ Idio t might be a tad harsh, but you are still my humble apprentice. Now, get outta here.” She waved her finger tips as if Taylor were an annoying fly and moved to take another order at the window.
After purchasing twenty pounds of bulk beans at the Co-op—“Organically grown using methods kind to the environment”—Taylor returned to Holy Grounds and stored the coffee. Her “desperate” job, though admittedly common and status-less, had turned out to be kind of fun. More fun than learning about property taxes, state law and ordinances. And the job definitely beat out driving the county with Steve and being forced to listen to endless stories arranged to showcase his prowess as an agent. The guy gave Taylor the willies. He probably found all his dates on the internet under “casual encounters.”
Despite Melissa’s outward appearance and brusque attitude, she was hard working, accountable, and quick with numbers. Regular customers consistently frowned when Taylor came to the window and she’d see them crane their necks for a glimpse of Melissa inside. The brassy ones simply said, “I want Melissa to make my coffee.” After several such orders Taylor finally broke down and asked for help.
“Okay, Obi-Wan Kenobi, what’s the secret? The Force seems to be with you.”
Melissa giggled and Taylor glimpsed a momentary softness under the girl’s bristly exterior.
“Normall y no on e hears my secrets. But I like you. You’re growing on me, Taylor, like a bad rash.”
“I feel the love.”
“The secret, young Padawan, is in the tamping of the grounds. A simple thing but it makes a big difference.” Melissa moved to the espresso machine and removed the stainless steel grounds container. She tapped a used disk of coffee into the trash and refilled it with freshly ground coffee.
“I do all tha t an d I always make sure the grind is fresh.”
“Wait, wait,” Melissa gestured toward the coffee. “You have to use the tamper more then once to stuff the grains together as tightly as they’ll go.”
Taylor watched her take the small wooden tamper and push it into the coffee.
“See? More grounds can fit inside. Then you tamp again. When the coffee is expressed it should make its own froth on top. That’s how you know the grounds are tight enough; that’s how you know it’s good.”
Melissa flicked the switch on the machine. Twin jets of chocolaty liquid drained into a waiting shot glass. When it was finished she lifted the glass to her lips and drank it straight up. “Mmmm. The coffee is king; don’t forget that, Sugar Baby.”
“Yuck. I can’t believe you drink that straight.” Taylor wrinkled her nose.
“That’s how my hair stays dark and my personality charming.”
A moment later a black truck pulled up. When Taylor slid the window open an older man with a salt and pepper buzz cut greeted her. “Is Melissa here?”
Taylor stepped aside and gestured toward the back with a flourish. Melissa stuck her head out. “Tim, my man! Let Taylor make your triple white chocolate mocha today, kay? I’ve taught her all my secrets. You’ll love it or the drink is on me.”
“I suppose I could live dangerously for one day.” Tim looked unconvinced.
Taylor took extra time to tamp the heck out of the coffee grounds and froth milk with precision. When she handed Tim the drink both girls waited as he sipped.
“I don’t know,” a teasing smile played at the edges of Tim’s mouth, “I may detect a slight difference. I think I need a free one to decide for sure.”
“The difference is I usually spit in yours, you rascal. Now cough up the dough!”
Tim grinned broadly and gave Melissa a five. “Keep the change, ladies.”
As he drove away Taylor felt a surge of irrational pride in her achievement. She was finally an
“Duh.” Taylor shook her head. “What am I, an idiot?”
Melissa raised her eyebrows. “ Idio t might be a tad harsh, but you are still my humble apprentice. Now, get outta here.” She waved her finger tips as if Taylor were an annoying fly and moved to take another order at the window.
After purchasing twenty pounds of bulk beans at the Co-op—“Organically grown using methods kind to the environment”—Taylor returned to Holy Grounds and stored the coffee. Her “desperate” job, though admittedly common and status-less, had turned out to be kind of fun. More fun than learning about property taxes, state law and ordinances. And the job definitely beat out driving the county with Steve and being forced to listen to endless stories arranged to showcase his prowess as an agent. The guy gave Taylor the willies. He probably found all his dates on the internet under “casual encounters.”
Despite Melissa’s outward appearance and brusque attitude, she was hard working, accountable, and quick with numbers. Regular customers consistently frowned when Taylor came to the window and she’d see them crane their necks for a glimpse of Melissa inside. The brassy ones simply said, “I want Melissa to make my coffee.” After several such orders Taylor finally broke down and asked for help.
“Okay, Obi-Wan Kenobi, what’s the secret? The Force seems to be with you.”
Melissa giggled and Taylor glimpsed a momentary softness under the girl’s bristly exterior.
“Normall y no on e hears my secrets. But I like you. You’re growing on me, Taylor, like a bad rash.”
“I feel the love.”
“The secret, young Padawan, is in the tamping of the grounds. A simple thing but it makes a big difference.” Melissa moved to the espresso machine and removed the stainless steel grounds container. She tapped a used disk of coffee into the trash and refilled it with freshly ground coffee.
“I do all tha t an d I always make sure the grind is fresh.”
“Wait, wait,” Melissa gestured toward the coffee. “You have to use the tamper more then once to stuff the grains together as tightly as they’ll go.”
Taylor watched her take the small wooden tamper and push it into the coffee.
“See? More grounds can fit inside. Then you tamp again. When the coffee is expressed it should make its own froth on top. That’s how you know the grounds are tight enough; that’s how you know it’s good.”
Melissa flicked the switch on the machine. Twin jets of chocolaty liquid drained into a waiting shot glass. When it was finished she lifted the glass to her lips and drank it straight up. “Mmmm. The coffee is king; don’t forget that, Sugar Baby.”
“Yuck. I can’t believe you drink that straight.” Taylor wrinkled her nose.
“That’s how my hair stays dark and my personality charming.”
A moment later a black truck pulled up. When Taylor slid the window open an older man with a salt and pepper buzz cut greeted her. “Is Melissa here?”
Taylor stepped aside and gestured toward the back with a flourish. Melissa stuck her head out. “Tim, my man! Let Taylor make your triple white chocolate mocha today, kay? I’ve taught her all my secrets. You’ll love it or the drink is on me.”
“I suppose I could live dangerously for one day.” Tim looked unconvinced.
Taylor took extra time to tamp the heck out of the coffee grounds and froth milk with precision. When she handed Tim the drink both girls waited as he sipped.
“I don’t know,” a teasing smile played at the edges of Tim’s mouth, “I may detect a slight difference. I think I need a free one to decide for sure.”
“The difference is I usually spit in yours, you rascal. Now cough up the dough!”
Tim grinned broadly and gave Melissa a five. “Keep the change, ladies.”
As he drove away Taylor felt a surge of irrational pride in her achievement. She was finally an
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