Barista, did you take care of your coffee machine?

For professional baristas, please follow the coffee workshop (Wechat official account cafe_style)

One Sunday morning, I went to the Tianen Palace on Muzha Mountain to sort out my books. On my way back, I passed a cafe. In fact, I had already gone through it many times. It happened to be open today.

[it was only later learned that it was closed on holidays, but it happens to be open from today]

[go in and have a look!] Thought to myself

From the outside, it is quite plain and clean, with a long platform behind a large floor-to-ceiling window, a row of seats, some decorations on the table, people like doll candlesticks and so on, telling the taste of the owner.

[maybe it's the owner's collection!]

The bookcase at the back displays many books and magazines neatly and casually, as well as some cup candlesticks, and many travel photos are nailed to the wall on the back porch.

[the master is in France.]

A blue double-hole Conti coffee machine with unembroidered steel noodles is placed on the workbench on the back of the bar.

[one of my friends has a red three-hole machine], [the other is a three-hole machine with two boilers], [it seems that conti is selling well!] [there is a bar, but there is no chair at the bar]

Looking at the environment, thinking, the host said hello.

Hello, would you like some coffee?

I've come to visit you. Give me a glass of espresso.

I have an Italian brand of coffee beans, so I often take the opportunity to drink coffee and get to know the shop. Usually I don't identify myself the first time I go there. I don't like to feel like a salesman, as if trying to promote products, but this store is really a little far away. I'm afraid there aren't many opportunities to stop by. Let's talk about it.

She used caravali beans, which tasted much more bitter in her hands, and finally the astringency occupied the whole throat, and the heavily baked beans could hardly escape the bitterness.

[but they always think that the coffee won't be flooded with milk]

[they are usually those American Italian coffee shops]

She said she wanted to try other beans, so I had a second chance to go.

This time I went into the bar.

[I saw the crying coffee machine and coffee beans]

In fact, she is not so bad, perhaps just after mealtime, unwashed dishes stacked on the sink, quite messy, not dirty, is messy, but this is normal! I have seen the bars and kitchens in many cafes, and few people wash them casually, so it's not surprising! I feel sorry for her and that bag of beans.

She is not old, she looks as if there is no one to take care of and no one to dress up. The coffee machine, which should be bright and beautiful, shrinks there in the dark as if she does not want to see anyone. She has no brilliance at all. She does not feel proud. She does not think she is honorable. Even I think she looks sad, like a resentful woman in a deep palace!

The bag of beans was sandwiched between the bean grinder and hers, and the boiler steamed the coffee beans across the panel. I heard the coffee beans tugging at their throats like ants on a hot pot and shouting: "it's so hot!" It's so hot!]

I don't believe such a machine can make good coffee!

In fact, I rarely see people treat coffee machines like people, and I dare not expect others to feel the same way with me, because people seldom establish a revolutionary relationship of living and dying together with the machine. Unless you treat the machine as a person, a partner! A partner! A lover! Even the other self!

I once said this to a big boy who works in a cafe near normal University Road, who is passionate about coffee: "you have never spoken to your coffee machine, patted her on the shoulder, touched her ass, and gently brushed off her dust!" Have you ever praised, encouraged and comforted her, saying that you couldn't have done anything without her? [if you do this, she will be obedient to you and more obedient than anyone else]

During World War II, many American soldiers called their chariots, ships and planes Mary Jeanne or Monroe. They did not regard them as machines. They were partners, lovers and saviors who could save their lives in a critical moment. So the machines give wholeheartedly until they die!

I remember that when I was a soldier, whenever the equipment was inspected, those military vehicles, tanks and cannons, which had long been scrapped and could not be used, could always be miraculously resurrected in the hands of old officers and officers, and they could still walk for several kilometers, but after the inspection, they were scrapped as before. Can't move. When I look back on it many times, I always feel that it is the cherished hearts of the old officers who urge them to wake up.]

The big boy seemed to listen, because when I went again, I watched him wipe it up and down with a dishcloth from time to time and tidy up his coffee machine. Sort out the machine that he used to think didn't belong to him, but now he thinks he has the responsibility to take care of it, a machine that he's not the only one using.

If you look at the coffee machine with a loving heart

You will find the coffee machines in most cafes crying!