Coffee--Philosophy for Everyone by Fritz Allhoff

Author:Fritz Allhoff
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wiley
Published: 2010-11-04T00:00:00+00:00

PART 3

THE WONDERFUL AROMA OF BEAN: COFFEE AESTHETICS

WILL BUCKINGHAM

CHAPTER 10

THREE CUPS

The Anatomy of a Wasted Afternoon

Cup 1: Macchiato

I have secured the optimum space for myself in this café, positioned so I can look out onto the street – the alternating sunshine and rain, the buses pulling up, the streams of passersby returning to work after their lunch breaks. It is twelve thirty on a Monday and I am shirking my own work, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a pain au chocolat in the other. I should be in my office, not here.

The coffee is a macchiato. I have been told that in Italy the macchiato is drunk almost exclusively by the old women it resembles – small, dark, and fierce, with a white head. I drink macchiatos without sugar. The pain au chocolat is fresh and still warm. I take a bite, then return the pastry to the plate.

I have chosen my seat carefully. I am not too close to the window, because I want to examine all the other customers: Those who, like me, are shirking work, and those who have no need to work or are bored with work or work strange hours or who have retired from work. But also I am not so far into the depths of the café that I cannot make out the precise expressions on the faces of those passing by outside. This, after all, is one of the pleasures of spending a Monday afternoon in a café, and so it is essential for the café to have large, unsmeared windows. As for the chair, it is not perfect. It is comfortable, an armchair in faux leather, not luxurious, but with the appearance of luxury. Still, it is certainly more comfortable than perching on the tall stools by the counter. These stools are fine for half an hour – about the minimum time that it takes to drink a coffee – but I am here for the long term. I have no engagements other than a class to teach later in the afternoon, I do not have my mobile telephone on me. Nobody at all knows I am here, and nobody who is here knows who I am – an admirable set of circumstances, ideal for writing and thinking.

The only complaint I have with regard to the chair is that the arms are a little high, and I am here to write. Ideally, if one is to write, the arms must be free so that the elbows can swing as and where they will, rather than confined, as they currently are, close to the body. No matter. It will suffice.

Already more than ten minutes have passed since I have sat down, and I have not touched my drink. I pause to have a sip. As I have said, the minimum time to drink a coffee is thirty minutes – ten minutes to wait for the coffee to cool to optimum temperature (I shun those coffee houses that serve

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