Oh love, thy name is cappuccino! If I love espresso, then my feelings for cappuccino can only be described as lust. I’ve actually used my feelings for this milky mouth heaven in my writing when describing erotic encounters. I should feel some guilt but I don’t. While my sexy, wonderful husband sleeps late in the morning on weekends, I moan my way through an erotical affair.
I approach the the solid brick of vacuumed-sealed Bustelo espresso grind with anticipation. In my hands, I feel the power I will release as I break the seal and allow the shape to expand in my hands. The aroma hits me and my knees become weak. I would dive into a a bed of this sensual fine grind and allow the masculine smoothness to embrace every inch of me… if I could and didn’t have to clean it all up later.
I prime the pump and listen as the force gathers force. I gently tamp the grind in to my double shot adapter. I hold my breath as I add just a little more. Exhaling, I twist the long black handle onto the machine and wait. Taking a French cafe au lait bowl, I add milk. I insert the wand, deep into the cold white liquid and turn it on. The steam builds and forces its energy into the expanding, white liquid and seducing the cold, passive to hot, foamy life. Into the heavenly cloud I pump dark, shots of caffeinated love.
I bring my lips down onto the warm round ceramic bowl in my two hands and moan as I take it all into my mouth, swallowing the energizing gift the Gods bestowed on the Oromo People of Ethiopia. And Kaldi the goatherd, who noticed the effect eating red berries ahd on his flock, I thank you all for the love in my mouth each morning!
Sigh, now to work, to create, to love!