tags: espresso-summer
Philadelphia on the fourth of July. Hot. Sweltering. I was there for two days, and it felt like the sun had a personal vendetta against every cobble in the road. With temperatures soaring into triple digits by early noon, merely walking three blocks required a thorough lathering in sunscreen.
After gearing up for the sun and making the expedition to the market where the coffee shop was located, I had hoped for a cup that didn’t taste like it had also been sun burnt. Unfortunately for me, it seemed that the heat had penetrated the espresso machine and caused it to return a horribly bitter shot. The coffee reminded me of camping as a little kid and roasting marshmallows over the fire. Specifically, it brought back memories of being too impatient to actually make a s’more, so instead I would stick the marshmallow directly into the heart of the burning white coals, wait forty-five seconds, and then pull it out. Of course no actual marshmallow remained on the stick at this point. It chemically transformed into an inedible black crisp that was reminiscent of something that had at one point had sugar in it. All this to say the espresso tasted well overdone.
I didn’t stay at the market for very long. There wasn’t much air conditioning, and in case I haven’t stressed this point enough it was so hot. So, in a desire to find drinkable coffee and cool air my girlfriend and I walked over to Chinatown and found a bakery with an espresso machine. In a completely predictable manner the bakery had plenty of ac, but devoid of espresso that wouldn’t engage my gag reflex. I should have turned around when I saw that the bakery sourced their beans from Lavazza, but the cruel summer sun certainly made their point clear. More Lavazza beans for me.
Picture of coffee from the market.
Picture of coffee from the bakery.