This something I penned many moons ago for the NZ Cafe Magazine. Any similarities to any New Zealand cafe owner is entirely coincidental.

Phone rings;

“Hello Cafe Magazine, the Editor speaking”

“Ah yeah gidday Ed. Trev Dagg here. You might have heard of me dad, Fred?  No, I’m not a farmer like him. This why I’ve rung to get a bit of advice from your team of cafe experts.”

 

Ed: Ok.

TD. I run a smallish cafe -a coffeeteria I call it- on the southern foothills of the Ruahine range down Ekatahuna way. Up till now, to be fair, it’s been a bit of a struggle in the cafe game. Me nine regular clients are seven sheep, the mad aunty and the bloke down the road who pops in for a Greggs Instant with six spoons of sugar.

However last month I brought a fancy expressochinno machine that I’ve hooked up to the power take-off on me tractor for extra boost. My cups of chino now have more head than an overpoured pint of Lion Red.  As a result I’ve just started pickin’ up more business.  Mainly from the blokes doing the highway upgrade for Transit but also some backpackers and the bankers in their flash Falcons who’ve been up this way sorting out the local farmers’ mortgages. 

 

Ed: And your food is good?

TD. Mum’s doing her scones with the dates and beer and I’ve taken in a nice line in meat pies from Colleen. She’s the sheila down the road who does the stop/go sign for the road works. She’s great, a real multi-tasker, mum calls her. She doesn’t just do pies and stop/go sign work. She walks to work and picks up the dead possums that Morrie hits on the way home from the pub and takes them home to process the skins. She has a secret ingredient in her pies but I can’t figure out what it is.

 

Ed: Must try one. Anyway, how can we help?

TD. I read your yarn about the winner of the World Barista Championships. He sounds like a great bloke. Shooting down to Costa Rica to sort out coffee from plantations and three different farmers and stuff. I reckon this must bugger up the cost of goods in his cafe a bit unless he charges $20 for a cuppa, but I’m new to this business and what do I know?

Anyhow I’m gonna chuck me hat in the ring to win this World Barista thing next year. How hard can it be to make a few coffees in a row? I had a rush of 3 bankers and a couple of road-workers last week and got their coffees and sausage rolls out in no time.  Bankers do not like to wait I can tell you. And in the Worlds I see you don’t need to heat up a scone or add 6 sugars to a coffee.

 

Ed: So you think you’ve got a chance Trev?

TD. Look I know this won’t go any further than it has to, but Ed, I’m gonna smoke these guys with my specialty coffee beverage. I’m  gonna sauc…sors.. get my beans from a new coffee plantation. I’ve jacked up some shade grown Antarctican pea-berry beans from the northern slopes of Mt Erebus. That’s not all, I’m gonna name each bean before I grind it. Starting from Adam, Bert, Chaz, Dave and Eddie, right through to Yin and Zeb. Naming each bean and baptizing in the local creek will give me lots of points from the judges. They love that wanky stuff.

 

Ed: Err. Ok. 

TD. Now my question for youse fellas is , can I take Janet with me?

 

Ed: Janet?

TD. Yep she’s Dad’s best milking Jersey, a real cracker. If I’m gonna win I need the freshest organic milk straight from cow to cup, no carbon footprint, delivered right into me milk-foaming jug.  I’ve timed a flat-white from the .. err, forgive me French…  tit to the table using coffee beans, Jason, Miranda, Willie,  Sarah, Sandra, Dave, Dee, Dozy, Beakie , Mick and Tich. 3 minutes it took ! 3 minutes flat ..err white.

 

Ed: Well I think the WBC judges might frown on bovine intervention and besides there’s not much space to work in, you know.

TD. Yep ok! Thought you might say something like that. Ok, I’ll have to go to plan B.

 

Ed: Plan B?

TD. You’re a good listener Ed, I’ll give you that. Plan B is this. I’ll grind me beans up in an old Zephyr gearbox, brew it up in a billy, chuck in a can of condensed milk and serve with one of Colleen’s poss…err meat pies. That’ll slay ’em huh?

Oh, look Edl I’ve gotta go, Mum’s just burnt the scones again. I’ll catch ya later.  

 

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