I can honestly say that I make the best espresso in town. Why am I so confident in this boast? Because I make the only espresso in town. Our little home machine is the closest thing to a real one in these parts. The nearest thing to espresso in this burg is spewed out by automated machines at the gas station. It’s actually pretty tasty, but it’s not a cappuccino.
It’s not just the brew itself that I miss, but the coffee shops. A friendly coffeehouse offers a nice alternative to donut shops, bars, strip clubs, and churches, all of which are in abundance in north Texas. Coffeehouses are fun for people-watching (albeit clothed), playful conversations, learning (they were once known as Penny Universities) and making friends.
So this lack of quality java creates serious culture shock (or lack thereof) for me. After growing up in college towns, living in the Seattle area, owning a coffeehouse, and living in Europe, can you blame me? I have so many fond memories revolving around coffeehouses.
I guess I’m just a bit homesick today.
p.s. I don’t know how I created this mouse with the foamed milk, but I thought it looked kinda cool, so here you go.