At 4AM
When the sun has not yet risen over the roofs in Trincity, and too alert dogs bark at brisk walkers stalking the empty streets, I’m usually still thawing out in the quiet darkness of my living room. The rousing noise of cars zooming through the neighborhood to beat gridlock traffic gets louder and louder too. So, before those syncopated rhythms establish an un-orchestrated day, I corral the external madness with a good cup of coffee.
And then–with great timing–birdsong meets the rising sun.
The hot dark beverage, poured into an appropriately weighted vessel (ceramic or glass), offers a private indulgence. One might say it appropriately prepares the senses before they are jolted too early and too soon by slight tomfoolery. There is a reason some mugs are embellished with clear indicators signalling the right time to approach the particularly disgruntled or don’t-talk-just-yet-because-your-words-are-just-noise-disrupting-a-perfectly-serene-moment type people. I sit in the second camp. Some just need a quarter rest beat upon waking–which seems more natural to me than launching oneself out of bed into high-octane action. To better manage unregulated cortisol levels I choose the necessary breather and my early cup.
4AM serves as a respite from the distress of a typical highly-connected day. Inundated by too much everyday, my mornings are best experienced in the isolation of my house. Before I plug in with others I prefer to connect with myself. Coffee’s indelible draw provides the warm fug that initiates focus with every slurpy sip. No other practice can beat the precious solitude of a blue-soaked morning routine with coffee on the lips. Here is why: early mornings with coffee easily lead to a required discernment for our modern day. It is a modern meditation. T&T’s Sabga-Aboud hit the nail on the head when he chose the name Rituals for his coffee chain. We must find and secure moments for individual meditation, contemplation, and intention to comfortably exist. His enterprising recognition is proof that the slowness initiated by sipping on a hot cup of coffee as ritual determines revenue-generating focus (at least in his case). I celebrate and I am partial to this coffee-imbibed point of view. For me, coffee at 4AM helps to silence internalized noise. I leverage it to clear the unwanted cache of ideas, worry, and loose-ends in my own random access memory. Hopefully it will lead me to profit as well.
I like my coffee strong. With regular milk. No sugar. I sometimes use a foamer to froth the milk a bit. For a while I subbed the milk for plant-based substitutes and my younger sister shamed me (and all others in my age group) with one comment: “Allyuh millennials and allyuh milk woes”. To her point: I don’t have an allergy. I was just fussy. Now I am back to regular milk.
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One particular brand I enjoy brewing at home is Cafe La Llave. If you see this green brick of vacuum packed coffee from Cuba, buy it and try it! Another good brand is Caribbean Roasters–their Beach Blend is particularly pleasant. I reach for these most often. Sometimes, Nescafe made with evaporated milk hits the spot. I go for the yellow capped option if available. Other times, I secure some Nescafe Gold. Coffee at 4AM, the time when I usually write, doesn’t come with fanfare. The ritual is straightforward and I daresay humble.
On the occasion when I am disappointed by the flavour promised on the pouch of a new brand I swiftly default to an extended hiatus of my favourite roasts or instant coffees. And when I tire of my own cupboard staples and wish to shake things up I amble into a cafe for my usual order. At a coffee shop my order is requested as if breathing: Flat white, regular milk, small (or tall if at Starbies). The request, no matter where I purchase, should trigger standard preparation for a standard cup. It is specific without being overbearing. It is hard to fuck up. Yet somehow….
Pivot: I want to address service and training in the food industry from here onward. I believe coffee culture and the cafes emerging within the space are a suitable context. Instead of harping on people at quick-service restaurant chains, I believe this an appropriate alternative since in contemporary coffee-making there are computerized scales, expensive Italian, German, Japanese, or American manufactured brewing machines, futuristically-designed thermometers, special roasting practices, over-publicized bean origin and all other kinds of things that make the once cheap morning beverage a $30–40TTD indulgence. When shit service and a cup of expensive-ass coffee disrupts my morning then here is where I will add to the noise. Minimum wage and class are not factors in this argument.
If I part with my money for a coffee from a cafe I expect good service and a quality product. That means: Staff should be well trained in the “art”. From the precise weight, exact heat, and the delicately poured head of foam (depending on the beverage), I want the best every time. My coffee should not be scalding watery slosh. The difference between a coffee made at 4AM and 5AM is care and attention to detail with a considerable amount of preparation beforehand. Whether it’s made at home or in a cafe, care in coffee is paramount. If you are going to buy a coffee outside, shouldn’t it at least be good? Far too many cafes open and offer a menu where care is severely lacking. I am not concerned with the decor or the experiential gimmick inherent to the space or the brand. When my money spending, the coffee better be superlatively fucking good.
Training and Customer Service go hand in hand. They are bed-fellows. To forgo Training or Customer Service with a money grab is not business; it is hustle. With unfortunately persistent regularity one from the pair gets distracted by Money and chases the whimsical outsider. The pillow talk might be nice but the morning after is just awkward if not dreadful. Cutting corners to make or save money erodes the desired culture within the food industry. This is a failure of leadership and management and is not the failure of those to be trained or those who actually serve. Businesses that reach over their heavily-marketed and publicized practice for the money in your pocket have already disassociated from their supposed brand promise and identified with a lack of concern and abundant disregard. It is a sickening and wretched intention disguised with commerce. Hapless staff are usually on the frontline and face the fallout with unsatisfied customers after following barked instructions from an off-site avaricious pot-hound who I imagine reluctantly signs their paycheck.
I prefer to support local small and medium businesses with emerging brands and try to do so as often as possible. As mentioned elsewhere: I believe the food industry is the backbone of the local economy. I prefer to find and consistently choose carefully prepared coffee from the experts brave enough to open yet another coffee shop in an oversaturated market. While I leave my wallet open to these specialty businesses, I am at times disappointed and regret not making it myself or buying the eight to fifteen dollar cup from the aunties serving it in a styrofoam cup instead. All I ask for, especially when at a cafe, is a coffee made with care and attention–for my wallet’s sake. Coffee (brewed or instant) need not be pompously formulaic: when poured over or boiled stove-top, coffee as a simple hot beverage can be finessed to its velvety mouthfeel by very humble means. Yet, in spite of the precision promised with those flaunting all the chromed gadgetry, I am often served a scalding liquid with an awfully acerbic taste. I have been burned too many times in both my wallet and tongue. Please, I beg, cafe-drawn coffee is too expensive for it to be shit.
I write at 4AM this time overwhelmed by pestering thoughts about customer service and training. It nags me as I contemplate other food-relevant topics. Since what we accept is what we share, then food and drink ought to be shared with the best we can give. I try to avoid unwrapping the cliche in favour of more pointed and personal storytelling that centres food within culture. I am actively asking myself: What is Caribbean Cuisine? I sip my coffee and type away, deleting phrases as I go because the emerging criticisms about food and drink do not feel appropriate or fair given the current political climate. But while in contemplation I find a point of entry: Between short pauses to sip coffee I realise the connection between the culture of being and the culture of eating and drinking. This seems more earnest and worthwhile to explore. With every beat I inch closer towards aspects of culture and modern living as the definitive context shaping the culinary landscape of our region (and vice versa). In food, what we prepare, sell, eat, and drink communicates so much about how we live and how we want.
With the particular focus on where I live (Trinidad) I come face to face with the nuances of taste to which we personally associate as determined by shared practices and customs on the island. It is individual tonality that colours the multitudinous. Food and drink act as a signature key and I am suitably motivated to address the topics I know are relevant to who we are as people. Ultimately, with recursive patterning, the core aspect of this inquiry surfaces as Who are we, really? Caribbean Cuisine is slowly revealed to be more an expression of identity and community than it is about flavour.
