
Whenever I head to a café, while walking arm-in-arm with a friend or dragging my grumbling preteens, I always look forward to my order: a flat white, which is, as I’m sure you know, basically a latte with less milk. So delicious!
Not everyone has loved my coffee requests, though. When I was in Paris a few years ago, I stopped into a tiny café in the Marais and asked for an Americano with a splash of milk. “No,” the barista told me. I waited a beat, and when she didn’t explain her thinking, I figured she might not have a rate set for that specific request. “Oh, I’m happy to pay for a latte, or whatever you’d think is best,” I suggested, trying to help. “No,” she repeated, firmly. “Our coffee will taste burned if I make that, so I won’t do it.”
Honestly, I loved her passionate take. She knew her coffee best, after all, so I asked what she’d recommend, and she brewed two shots of espresso, executed beautifully.
Shopkeepers in New York will do this, too — “you can’t put Parmesan cheese on shrimp pasta,” or “chef won’t prepare a steak well done,” or “we don’t toast bagels, they already come warm.” I love someone who cares so much about their craft that he or she will put a foot down, hard.
Now I’m curious, please tell me: What’s your coffee order? Any recommendations? I’m still relatively new to coffee (I only started drinking it during the pandemic), so I’m always eager for tips. xoxo
P.S. Photos from Paris trips, and two magical Paris itineraries.