Entitlement is all around us. As restaurateurs we experience it every day. It is to be expected. We do not like it and we find it quite demeaning and shallow, but hey, that is life. So this is not about entitlement. We are aware of it and we would never stoop so low.
Those who know us, there is one thing that we bring to these shores with us from our previous lives in Malta. Coffee. Like shaking hands when we meet someone, when we hug when we see our friends, when we hug our kids as they come out of school in the afternoon, we always offer a coffee to any visitor to Margo’s at the Old Mill.
When I visit my sister she puts the coffee machine on and having coffee together is a given. It kind of slows down the experience to allow savouring every moment of our meeting.
Coffee is a lubricator of conversations, a stimulant of emotions and the glue of friendship. We cannot imagine life without coffee.
And it has to be a proper coffee. Freshly ground coffee beans; fresh beans; proper roast. We are lucky that our coffee here gets roasted by Smith’s in Apsley to our specifications. Lovely coffee. Lovely people.
I remember when we moved here I visited the roasting facility and met Mr. and Mrs, Smith – Colin and Marina. I told them that it is my duty to support local businesses and would they roast coffee for us to certain specifications. They obliged and our friendship got stronger than our espressos.
Before we took over Margo’s at the Old Mill I used to visit Berkhamsted for on site meetings with various people. I used to go up and down the high street to taste the various coffees. It was a depressing experience to someone who loves their coffees strong, fresh and intense.
I remember going to Costa and ordering a ristretto. A ristretto is an espresso but very short. I thought, hey, at last I get to taste the coffee and not the water. As I was watching the person making the coffee and once the coffee reached half way up the little espresso cup I shouted, Stop, Stop. The water kept flowing in the cup and the girl looked at me, alarmed by my yelling.
If I wanted a swimming pool I would be wearing my swimming trunks I said sarcastically. I never tasted it. I just walked out.
The same experience, up and down the high street. I was determined to make amends when we moved here. And we did.
We do a mean coffee. A strong coffee. Not a bitter coffee. A proper coffee. The basis of all coffees is the espresso. Our espressos are double shots. Do not skimp on a coffee. Do not cut corners. Coffee is a religion.
Coda di topo. Pelle di tigre.
Repeat after me. Coda di topo, pelle di tigre. Coda di Topo, pelle di tigre. That is the coffee credo in 6 words.
It means mouse tail tiger skin.
Mouse Tail, Tiger Skin. Repeat ad infinitum.
What it means is that the coffee has to come out of the coffee holder on the machine like a mouse tail. Thin, long, skinny tail like a mouse’s tail. If it comes out like a volcanic eruption, like a tap gushing out or, at the other extreme, dripping little drops, then the coffee is ruined. Forensics will tell us why this happens, but this is not the time for that.
Tiger skin is the description of what the surface of the coffee should look like: a cream of various brown hues that look like the skin of a tiger. It has to be thick and creamy. Again, forensics will explain why this might not happen. If it does not happen, many things could be wrong. That is for another day to explain.
Once you have the espresso bit of the coffee sorted, the rest, the adding of the milk, alcohol, cream, or whatever the latest fad is, is elementary.
Café come si deve.
Coffee as it should be.
Someone I know went for a job interview at an artisanal independent coffee shop on a high street. They roast their own coffee beans. I love that. I always wanted to do that, but like anything else in life, you have to make your choices and pick your battles.
She went for a job as an assistant manager at this coffee shop. In the end of the interview she asked for a coffee. She was charged for it. She asked for an additional double espresso because the coffee was so weak. Apparently it pissed off the owner for asking for a double espresso and throwing them in her cappuccino.
I guess she will not be going back there.
And here is the entitlement bit. Is it an element of entitlement that makes me think that the shop should be kind, generous, courteous, polite to offer an interviewee a coffee? A free coffee? I find it to be mean to charge anyone, especially an interviewee who drove all the way to the shop and took the time out to attend an interview, for a coffee in a coffee shop. To me it reflects the mindset of the business owner. That meanness would eventually show in their coffee: put less coffee in the hopper, choose cheaper coffee beans, extract as much money from the operation as possible.
Maybe it is just me.
