The baristas’ lament (a poem of sorts)
A barista is the last hand on the coffee.
It goes through many hands.
Then it goes to my hands.
Then to my guest: my customer.
If it’s not perfect,
it’s
completely
my
fault.
It’s not that if it’s not perfect,
it was ruined in my hands.
It’s that my hands,
and all the hands that came before,
are my duty.
The farmer may ruin the cultivation.
The roaster may ruin the roast.
The grinder may ruin the grind.
The water may ruin the brew.
But only I can taste the cultivation,
the roast, the grind, and the brew,
and I have hands and feet
and my mouth.
I must learn to taste.
I must learn what to do.
Then make it
perfect.
Sweet poem! I kind of think of the same thing for food, being a cook.
When can we expect another podcast?
You missed a step between the farmer and the roaster. The way a coffee is processed at the mill is so important, yet everyone seems to forgot this vital step!!