Latte love

It’s Tuesday Thanks day, so I’m grateful for the small beauties you can find in life if you take the time to notice.

Such as: latte art.

First of all, I can almost equate a coffee shop that gives you latte art with a coffee shop that’s going to give you really good coffee. Not 100%, but pretty damn most of the time.

Latte art means that no matter how crazed the place is, the barista is taking care with what s/he is producing for you. Brewing the coffee with just the right amount of crema. Steaming the milk so the foam’s air bubbles are tiny and what you get feels like silk flowing over your tongue, not like a an inch and a half of tasteless, frothy air (which seems to be the Starbuck’s norm). They tap the milk pitcher on the counter to settle it.

And then they carefully pour the milk into the coffee—just as you do a flute of champagne and create the design. Kind of like a Tibetan sand painter.

What’s even more remarkable is when they do it in takeaway cups, and hand it to you with the lid on. Because you could drink it without ever knowing that lovely little heart or flower is right there, made for you.

Latte art is kind of like the cotton candy artist I wrote about a while ago: exquisite as it can be, its one constant is that it’s ephemeral. It’s made to be consumed, distorted with the very first sip, presumably before the coffee cools. Yet baristas go on making it.

And I go on loving it.

So, thanks, latte artists!