A Snap of the Fingers

We spoke to my sister-in-law today. She's in Africa, volunteering for a few more months. Her placement ends in May, and she hasn't found any new opportunities, and is toying with the idea of coming home -- the economy's not good, she's worried it'll take a while to find a job, blah blah blah.

We very, very strongly advised her to stay. Her ticket brings her home to Toronto at the end of September; why would she cut her trip short by six months? Sure, she's worried. Sure, she's probably homesick. She's tired and lonely and all of those things that make the thought of home, and stability, very appealing right about now. We remember those feelings with great clarity. Now that we have home and stability, the thought of being where she is right now is extremely tempting.

So many people have said to us, "I wish I could do what you have done!" Well, they all can. However, there are lots of reasons that they think they can't. They are the same reasons we waited so long to leave -- the jobs, the house, the family, the fear. I'm not exaggerating in the least when I say it was a monumental effort to get everything tucked neatly away before we took off to Kathmandu. I also want to point out that we couldn't have done it alone. We had ongoing help from many people in the form of emotional support, people to do the odd little jobs for us, people to take care of our stuff while we were gone. Doing it once was hard enough. Doing it again -- well, I might not need as much convincing, but I wouldn't look forward to it.

She's already done the hardest part. She left -- and now that she's gone, she should stay gone. This is truly the chance of a lifetime, and she should make the most of it, even though right now it's hard to see it for what it is. I hope she gets there soon.

Latte Love

I spent a very fun day behind the counter at Epic Espresso here in Perth, learning the ins and outs of the art of barista-ing. Epic Espresso has been voted Best Coffee in Perth on more than a few occasions, and our instructors are both celebrated "latte art" award winners, so I was in the best of hands. They're so serious about coffee that each shot of espresso is watched intently as it's extracted, and is stopped at the precise moment that the coffee texture and colour changes. And they do refer to them as extractions -- it's not just a drink, it's not just a coffee. It's an experience.

I learned about choosing the best beans, storing them, and making the most velvety, luxurious espresso from them. Then I learned how to steam really, really good milk to make decadent espresso drinks like lattes, flat whites, and cappuccinos. This also means that I finally learned the differences between all of these drinks. (It wasn't as complicated as I originally thought.)

It was pretty daunting at first, what with all the talk about the perfect grind, the perfect dosage and tamp of the grounds, and the perfect stream. It only got worse when we moved onto the milk preparation, discussing and practicing our milk stretching and milk rolling with the steam wand, and finally moving into pouring absolutely gorgeous drinks, so pretty that it would be a shame to drink them.



(images from Epic Espresso)

Did I mention that I got to use an espresso machine more expensive than an economy car? Did I mention that we used at least 40 litres of single-origin, semi-organic local milk in learning to pour these delectable treats?

A great day -- I'll never look at coffee the same way, and the secret world of the sexy barista just became a little less mysterious.