Calling All Baristas

May 27th, 2024

Grant County, KS.

I need help. There is something I need to know-- something I’ve been trying to learn for years.

I don't know how to steam milk for lattes. I know, I know, such a trivial thing, you might think. But, for something that is part of my everyday morning ritual, I think it’s pretty crucial. 

Once upon a time, I was so close to learning. I had applied for a job at Dobson Creek, the renowned coffee shop in Ronan, my place of residence back then. One Saturday morning as I walked in for my daily coffee fix, one of the Mr. Yosts pulled me behind the counter and began giving me some training. That brief hour marked my entire experience as a barista; for the next day, Mr. Brubaker called me and to inform me that I was being sent to Bangladesh.

When I lived in Bangladesh, there was this amazing coffee chain we would visit: North End Coffee Roasters. It was an oasis to us. The American-style coffee shop was started in the US Embassy in Dhaka. Not much reading can be done on the founder, but his name suggests he is an American. I do not know what he was ever doing in Bangladesh in the first place, but I'm sure glad he was doing it! In the years since its initial opening in 2011, it has expanded to include twelve locations in Dhaka, as well as one in Cox's Bazar.

It became our personal tradition. We celebrated in North End whenever family came. We felt sorry for ourselves in North End when they left. When Kylie was in the hospital in Dhaka, Whitney, Brandi, and I went there to do Language and Math class.

To this day, I have never had a better salted caramel latte. Their latte art was impeccable. One time, there was a perfect kitty in Kylie's hot chocolate. Another time, the words "Good Noon" had been somehow etched in the foam atop my latte. I'd see them bent over a cup with their toothpicks, painstakingly forming some kind of new design. Oddly enough, the coffee was always still hot when the smart-looking waiters, dressed head to toe in black, delivered it to our table.

Found footage of North End's artistry (source: Google Images)

We lived for our trips into Dhaka. Once at North End, we would indulge in homemade cinnamon rolls, pumpkin muffins, brownies(!), roast beef sandwiches, and of course, coffee. It was a real moral booster for us. (Please continue to show your support to the CSI fund.) During those moments in our oasis, we could temporarily leave the chaos of the streets outside. It almost felt like we were back in Denver again, or Cleveland, or anywhere other than packed Bangladesh.

As you well know, I adored Bangladesh, and still do. However, no matter where you are, and no matter how attached and used to a new place you manage to become, the heart still craves some sort of familiarity-- some sense of reprieve from the "strange and unusual." That is what North End Coffee Roasters was to us, and that is partly why I speak of it with such reverence. If you ever find yourself in Bangladesh, hopefully you have taken me with you, and I will take you to North End.

Upon my return home, I was delighted to find that my parents had purchased an espresso machine. Aha! I thought. I shall learn to make beautiful coffee drinks!

In the year since, it has become my personal mission. I have watched so many tutorials, I can almost quote them by heart. “Purge your steam wand. Hold the pitcher at a slight tilt. Create a vortex. When the milk is approximately 135 degrees Fahrenheit, it will be perfect. *Tap tap tap* on the counter. The milk should be the consistency of white paint, with no bubbles. Give it a little swirl so the microfoam doesn’t separate from the milk,” and on and on and on. I’ve heard it all. 

Every morning, I walk to the refrigerator in search of my personal milk. I prepare the espresso machine, determined that today will be the morning I achieve the perfect latte. However, as expected, it never quite turns out that way. I make every effort to follow the steps precisely. I angle my cup just right, creating the swirling motion; and in the faint morning light, the milk almost resembles white paint. Yet, inevitably, disappointment strikes. When it comes time to pour the milk into the espresso, I am again left in disbelief. Once again, I have fallen short. The other day, I failed so miserably that I figured it would have done just as well to heat the milk in the microwave.

Do you know about latte art? I have quite the talent for creating latte art in my coffee cups. Every morning, it’s something different. Looking for art in my coffee cups is reminiscent of when I used to lie on the lawn and search for shapes in the clouds. Sometimes, there is a man riding a camel in my cup. Sometimes, there is a strange-looking tree-- a new and undiscovered species, perhaps. Most of the time, there is only a circle. But, a circle can be anything: one of the moons of Jupiter; a vinyl record of a great song; the silhouette of a ferris wheel. It's reassuring to know that, at twenty-four, my imagination is alive and well.

Someday, I might master the art of steaming the milk for my morning coffee. Then, it will be time to master the traditional latte art. One thing at a time. Simple circles and bubbly warm milk will have to do for now. Even if the milk was steamed flawlessly, I’d still have the morning coffee and orange gone by the time I got to HWY 54.

That being said, if anyone has any pro tips for me, you are welcome to share.