04/24/2026
A few thoughts on espresso, customer service, and keeping it real.
Years ago now, I decided that the way to celebrate my birthday was to do a little wine bar hopping. Great fun, by the way. I would recommend it. We ended up at the original iteration of Corner Table, which had a little window behind the counter opening into the kitchen. There was room for two stools, so naturally that's where we went. While we were chatting with the hostess, the chef appeared, saying "86 the soup. It's inedible." Apparently there are rules about what sort of beer one can safely put in beer cheese soup. Anyhow, when the hostess/server asked us what we would like, I didn't hesitate. I asked for the inedible soup.
The chef was right. It was awful. He came back and chatted with us about it. He engaged with us in a very genuine way. We had more fun, and were left with a more indelible memory, because the soup didn't work.
One of the things I obsess over (no big distinction I realize- I obsess about most things) is espresso. If you don't think you like espresso, there's a good chance you've never had a good one. It is shockingly hard to find a good shot in a commercial setting. The reasons why would be plenty of material for a whole different conversation. For now, I will just say that I ordered one while I was out today, and it wasn't good.
I have known the barista for some time, and he and I are friendly. So I mentioned, in the most unaccusing manner I could muster, that the shot ran a little long. He agreed, and that was the end of that. I drank my poorly done espresso and went on my way.
My first thought is that, if I provide a paying customer with a product we both know isn't quite right, I'm going to give it another try. But more than that, we missed an opportunity to have a real conversation. We could have discussed what went wrong, and what we could try to improve things. Even if the coffee didn’t get any better, it would have been a lot of fun.
So what's my point? I guess it's that the transaction doesn't need to be the whole story. If we stop caring the moment the cash drawer closes, we might be missing out on a chance to connect in a much more interesting and meaningful way. The connection is the good part. It's not about the soup.
