I’m not a coffee drinker. I’ve never liked the taste. And unlike the way I approached beer and wine in college, I never bothered to acquire a taste for coffee. Consequently, I’ve always sought rebellion in the form of tea. Badass, I know.
Until last week, when I started drinking coffee at age 31.
My gateway drug was, (un)surprisingly, an espresso martini.
Ok, fine. Several espresso martinis.
We had arrived in London that morning, it was pushing 9pm, and I was fighting off jetlag in a dark basement bar. The struggle was real.
But the espresso martinis were delicious, and exactly what I needed. I proclaimed to my friends and our waiter, “I’m going to start drinking espressos!”
The next morning, I discovered that espresso doesn’t taste the same without the vodka. Actually, espresso on its own was quite strong and bitter. Thus began a coffee sampling quest across multiple cafes in multiple European cities to find my caffeinated beverage of choice.
Ultimately, I landed on cappuccinos (and their cousins, iced lattes). And fortunately for me, our Eurotrip took us to Italy later that week, where the cappuccinos flowed freely and flavorfully.
I also learned that part of the fun of being a coffee drinker is the discovery of new places to enjoy drinking it. I was able to explore Rome and Venice with a new activity to help me soak up the culture while trying something that the country of Italy is known for. Sitting at a "table for one" is not typically my forté, but I had found a new excuse for people-watching and a new way to observe the the sights around me… cappuccino in hand.
When in Rome...