A Shot in the Dark

The bartender here at the L'Etoile liked to talk about café corretto--or "corrrected coffee"--that is, coffee with liquor added. WIth the help of the baristas at Barrique's, I learned just how good a late night espresso can be with a little correction.

The "Irish Espresso," as we'll call it, starts with a perfectly extracted shot of espresso (thanks, Ed), and ends with a pour of Jameson Whiskey... A perfect way to start a night on the town.

Dried out

First things first: When we talk about a dry cappuccino, the word "dry" is describing the flavor profile. It is not an description of what the milk froth should be. Cappuccino foam should always be smooth and wet, and well incorporated into the whole of the beverage.

A dry cappuccino is simply calling for a greater ratio of foam to milk. This leaves the espresso less dilluted with milk, giving it a stronger flavor and a fuller, deeper presentation of the coffee roast, leaving dry tones on the palate.

The proliferation of the "Bubble Bath Cappuccino" is sad to see. When someone who is used to that sort of presentation sees a proper cappuccino, he or she is usually a little confused. After all, even a well-made dry cappuccino can approach the look of a latte, and leave a customer skeptical. The foam is there, it is just very smooth and practically indistinguishable from the pure liquid of the milk. This is because the aeration of the milk created during the stretching process on the steam wand should be developed throughout the milk, not just the top. That is the importance of rolling and swirling the milk, and what gives it that heavenly texture.

And trust me... after enjoying a cappuccino poured without a trace of visible bubbles in the milk--giving it a glossy sheen, and leaving it, desirably, with no great sculpting properities to speak of--it will be hard to ever again drink a tall, frothy mess passing as a cappuccino in this city.

Passing Through

Anyone serious about espresso in Madison knows about Sacha. A barista at the King Street Ancora, he, in my experiences so far, is the best barista in the city. Part of the Sacha experience, of course, is his charm, but his attention to craft and his high level of consistency has outdone every other barista I have come across in this city.

I've learned a lot about espresso and barista techniques just by drinking the macchiatos he prepares. When I place an order at Ancora, and Sacha is on the bar, I know I'll be learning a lot, as well as getting something fantastic to drink.

The first thing about his macchiato is that he always pours them. Like the traditional Italian method, he never uses a spoon. His froth is rich, thick, and smooth, allowing the perfect mix of taste and texture. What the pouring affords is the chance for the frothed milk to actually pass through the espresso, adding the micro-smooth texture throughout the coffee. When dolloped on top with a spoon, milk foam just sits there, like a hat, providing no texture, and keeping separate when the espresso is sipped.

The second thing pouring does is enhance the crema. The crema is the lightly tan layer that holds all the rich, sweet flavors of the espresso. When the foam comes up under the crema, it combines with the crema, enhances the texture, and actually increases its volume. When I drink a macchiato from Sasha, there is always an abundance of the crema, something that cannot be duplicated without an exquisite pour of perfectly smooth froth.

When I get behind my own bar at Cafe Soleil, I always try to match his technique. I'm not quite there, but I certainly appreciate the knowledge I've gained from him so far.

UPDATE: Sacha has left the barista world, but you can still find a great macchiato with high consistency from the new baristas at Ancora on King Street...

Triple X

You will never see a barista order any kind of espresso drink as a triple, or with, as it has been unfortunately branded, "an extra shot."

I'm sticking with my declaration that as far as espresso is concerned double is standard. The single shot is fine when needed, but the triple is generally unacceptable. I believe the biggest reason people must be ordering espresso this way is the fact that the drink they are consuming isn't strong enough. Fair enough, but I also believe that if the Modern Espresso Customer in America knew more about what they were being served they may reconsider. They would reconsider, and realize they need to downsize rather than upsize.

Indicative of this is the woman who looks at our menu, sees "espresso" as the first listing and the cheapest, and wonders aloud, "Espresso? No, I don't need that much caffeine.... I'll have a large latte." The logic is stupifying for a barista, but for the woman, she has no idea. She doesn't know that what she has ordered is in fact the very espresso she passed over, drowned in a sea of frothed milk. She doesn't know that making that latte as large as she wants it to be, there is only additional milk, and no additional coffee. To be fair, with the volume of that latte, her caffeine intake will be much slower than if she had ordered the espresso proper, but, honey, it's all in the delivery.

So for the customer who fancies him or herself a little more savvy, a little more hip to what's going on in the latte world, he or she may order an "extra shot" in their latte. Fine, I'll take it over death by milk, but ordering a three-shot latte or cappuccino does a few things, mainly for me it will increase the possibility of your espresso losing its freshness. I've heard that espresso has a half-life of something like 30 seconds. If your barista is letting the espresso sit out while pulling that extra shot, the crema is dissapating and the freshness (raison d'etre for espresso) is exiting.

Better is to downsize the drink altogether. Add less milk, try the latte shorter, the cappuccino drier, until you can actually taste the coffee. A double shot is a fine dose of caffeine. (If more caffeine is needed, order another one.)

The Jury is In...

The best way to enjoy espresso cold is over vanilla ice cream. Ancora on King Street has something called the "espresso affogato" and it is delicious. To compare it to a Root Beer Float might somehow diminish it, and it is more of a treat than an everyday thing, but the simple combination of perfectly extracted expresso and creamy ice cream can't be beat.

Truth In Advertising

I was at a Madison coffeeshop this week and ordered a single shot macchiato. When the barista rang it up, he said, "Double Macchiato." Now, usually I don't order singles--I feel like if your machine pulls doubles, double is standard--but when I've already had enough caffeine, and when I want a smaller dose (good for sampling), I'll get a single. Also, a single macchiato is nice, because it is almost always is served in a demitasse cup, whereas a double is sometimes served in a bigger cup which can dwarf the coffee, look a little silly, and basically ruin the aesthetics of drinking espresso.

So I corrected him, saying I only wanted a single. But he protested, saying it was bad coffee karma to waste a shot. I went along with his suggestion, mostly because I like to see how a barista will present a drink in the manner he or she feels is best. I presume he only charged me for a single, but I didn't pay attention to the price total (I think price is the big reason people order a single; that is, if you're looking to save that 30 cents or whatever, you'll order the single).

And I'll admit, I have served double shots when a single was ordered. Never espresso proper, of course, but in lattes or cappucinos. I guess I've felt that I should give a 16 ounce latte all the coffee flavor I can. But more and more, I feel that we (baristas) should be upfront with what we're serving.

I once had a barista tell me his coffeeshop always gave single shot orders both shots because "we like our customers." But wouldn't being completely honest in what you advertise be the best way to show your customers you like them? I mean, that barista did give me a double shot (in a large cup, natch), but then proceeded to blast away any coffee flavor present with a more than healthy pour of scalded, poorly frothed milk, thus taking back any karma earned....

The Heat is On

Maybe it's because of the incredibly abrupt shifts in weather we have in Wisconsin, but it always seems as if a lot of people here will alter their coffee beverage of choice when the weather gets hot. This mostly means asking for "iced coffee."

As an espresso drinker, I didn't think I would be affected, but I found myself ordering an espresso rather than a macchiato one afternoon when escaping the heat. My reasoning was that I didn't want the added hot milk. I still like a little cream to soften my espresso though, so I added a touch of (cold) cream from the available pitcher most cafes supply.

When I was behind my own bar, and could experiment, I tried the old espresso-over-ice trick that some folks ask for. I didn't really go for it. It seemed to deaden all the exciting flavors of espresso, and tasted a little dull. At this time, I also considered adding a syrup to sweeten it up.

This is indicative of an odd discovery I made with a barista I used to work with. We found we only wanted our espresso sweetened when served up cold. When hot, the slight caramelization of milk sugars is enough sweetener for me, but for some reason, my tongue looks for sugar when it's cold.

Once my body chemistry is adjusted to our summer climate, I predict I'll stick with the macchiato, but until then, I'll try to find the perfect cooling espresso vessel.

The Casualty

I work as a barista in Madison, WI, serving up the best espresso I can at Cafe Soleil, L'Etoile's street-level cafe on the Capitol Square. One afternoon I was giving the Maître D' a quick how-to on various espresso drinks. She had become a fan of the cappucino, and I showed her a macchiato, topping off a shot of espresso with frothed milk.

After I poured the drink, she became concerned with the milk pitcher and the remaining frothed milk it contained. "What are you going to do with the rest of that milk?" she asked. "If I have another drink to make, I'll use it, but I'll probably end up throwing it out," I said. When that answer didn't seem to suit her, I continued, "Well, that's the casualty of the macchiato."