#12: Caffeine Withdrawal

Hi, I'm Nanya and I'm an addict

Hello hello,

I trust you know how to find me, and more importantly, yourself here.

This issue is primarily entirely about coffee, so if you're trying to quit, go somewhere else. All other mortals, welcome to the abyss.

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The nurse at work said this morning that I may have to go off coffee completely, which, if you know my obsession with coffee and my body’s concurrent rejection of it, is a Big Deal. I have in past years been trying to…for fear of sounding like an addict…quit coffee entirely, but in lieu of that, I am happy to just transition through decaf. I like the ritual, my body disagrees. Apparently, hereditary anaemia and caffeine are just not best friends. Who knew?

I am even writing this while tripping on caffeine. Trippin

g, yes, because that’s how it feels, like I’m walking around drunk though I haven’t had anything to drink. You’ve seen the spider diagram, right? Where NASA thought it was a good idea to give spiders caffeine and have them physically illustrate to us what it is like to work while caffeinated? Someone call PETA.

So I’m going to have to say goodbye to coffee. Excellent for my writing, terrible for my heart rate. Goodbye, already non-existent newsletter. Toodle-oo.

Before I do that, here is an ode to all the ways I love or have loved coffee over the years. A friend recently told me I’m, ahem, experimental with how I drink my coffee, so here are some recipes/not-recipes/coffee preparations to maybe convince you to enter this world that I will have to say goodbye to. (JK, I’m going to stick with decaf. And I’m going to continue to allow myself to (over)caffeinate when I’m hungover. Those are my exceptions. But other than that, oooh, transition city, baby.)

Here they are then, in chronological order of the good coffees in my memory. Please excuse any typing errors, because you know, coffee.

1. Flat White:

Let’s get this out of the way, shall we? Hipster that I am, I was introduced to these in the very home of hipsters, a back alley coffee shop in Sydney (all you Melbourne fanatics, get out of here). In Sydney (maybe in Melbourne too, who knows) they ask you if you want sugar in your coffee before they make your espresso, so that the entire thing gets just a tiny bit syrupy before that perfect microfoam is textured into it. That’s the amount of attention they pay to coffee. In terms of coffee culture, some of the very best.

Anyway, back to flat whites. Before they started showing up on Starbucks menus as simply double espresso drinks with some half-assed foam (in comparison, cappuccinos have one shot, looser milk and foam on top), the Australians conceived these to be similar to cappuccinos in terms of how much coffee they contained. However, instead of the espresso+milk+foam layers of a cappuccino, flat whites top their espresso (or double ristretto) entirely with a velvety, homogenous microfoam. All this requires more effort to make, because milk, my friend, separates into cream and liquid. But my, is a flat white made with attention worth the effort.

Globalisation means that a flat white in one city, or even one coffee shop, is completely different from one somewhere else, and even called by different names - Gibraltar, Cortado, Tall - all completely different things, and very much not flat whites. But call them what you will, flat whites, aka espresso/ristretto + microfoam, you will forever have my heart.

2. Cafe de Olla:

I really, truly grew to love this kind coffee over the five years I spent in Mexico. Coffee cooked in an earthen pot with raw palm sugar (piloncillo) and spices like cinnamon, cloves and star anise, this is usually served syrupy sweet with a streetside breakfast (I ask for mine with half an Americano). The best one I ever had was on the side of a highway in Baja California on a cold morning, warm, light, not too sweet, and brewed with, surprise, the rind and juice of an orange. Any previous conceptualisation of coffee blown away. Highly recommend trying to replicate this on a weekend morning, with tea and whatever sweet spices you have in tow if that’s more your vibe. This morning, I threw some ginger honey lemon tea (infusion) into a shot of espresso, and the repeat of that was why I’m still(!) overcaffeinated.

3. Espresso Tonic/Cold Brew Lemonade:

Cousins in flavour and how they make you feel, with subtle differences. Espresso tonics comprise tonic water poured over a lot of ice, with a shot of espresso poured slowly over the ice so that it cools down but remains in two layers. Nice trick, even better if you slip in a slice or two of lime on top, stir it all up, and then take a sip. As a friend who no longer drinks coffee said when we first ducked out for one from work, this is a “happy drink”. It’s up and up.

Cold brew lemonades, on the other hand, are what they sound like, first cold brew, then ice, then lemonade. Or the reverse, it doesn’t really matter when you’re hungover on a Sunday and need a cool, refreshing drink to gently buzz away the flies in your brain. Cold brew lemonade is a relaxed high. It gets the job done.

Similar preparations include the Mazagran, the Portuguese name for an Algerian version of the above, which uses espresso, honey and lemon instead of cold brew and lemonade.

4. Carajillo:

Another Mexican discovery, by way of Spain. Carajillos in Spain are a shot of espresso shaked with any alcohol of your choice, a perfect post-late-lunch pickup to carry you into the evening. In Mexico, a Spanish liqueur called Licor 43 predicated its marketing campaign on the carajillo made exclusively with it. Licor 43 is so named because it boasts 43 herbs but tastes like a shot of vanilla with a little something-something. Think espresso martini, but served in a special snifter. Carajillos and Licor 43 have since become inseparable in my (and at least most of Mexico City’s) eyes, and one of the best ones to be found is at Contramar, an otherwise upscale tourist spot famed for its tuna tostadas. Misgivings against the rich and privileged aside, a tuna tostada and a perfectly balanced Contramar carajillo (a little sweet, a little bitter, giant head of foam from the hearty shake your bartender gave it, all resting on tiny blended ice to mellow it out) is a good way to enjoy a weekend mid-morning while you wait for family lunch.

5. Café:

Un café, s’il vous plaît. The default coffee order at a French cafe. This comes last because I was introduced to it last. Somewhere between a tight shot of espresso and a watery Americano, this is a bold, fresh, drinkable cup that you can access almost anywhere in French-speaking part of Europe. Because coffee varies widely in what it’s called and how it’s made across the world, I don’t know how to access this exact method of drinking anywhere else. A café is less densely packed than an espresso, if I understand correctly. Perfectly paired with a conversation with a friend or a book or notepad, this is the in-between moment of comfort I will have the stongest withdrawal from, because it is also one of my most recent rituals of connection to coffee.

6. Aeropress:

Ugh, yes. Aeropress. Purveyor of fan clubs, instigator of championships, creator of cults. It is difficult to place faith in what is basically a giant, overpriced plastic syringe for getting your caffeine fix whenever the urge strikes. (The drug parallels of that last sentence are not lost on me.) Need your hipster coffee first thing in the morning while you’re camping? Check. Need it on an airplane when the coffee they serve you will just not do? Check. Aeropress TM. An ex-boyfriend we do not name introduced this to me just before he himself switched to Nescafé, so this has never really been something I gravitated to. Naturally.

But when I was visiting my parents last week and in deep need of a nice little cappuccino in a country where one espresso-based drink costs upwards of 10 USD, Aeropress saved the day. I hate to say it, but the smooth, rich coffee that came out of that Aeropress filter was the closest I’ll ever get to making method coffee. It was so good. With Starbucks blonde roast, nonetheless, which was the only unexpired coffee lying around in the house. Why? You know what they say. Beggars (Addicts) can’t be choosers.

The smell of freshly ground, freshly plastic-syringed coffee was so overpowering (read: addictive), I gave someone a literal migraine from it. Oops.

So that’s it for now. Caffeine rush starting to settle down. Taking my sunglasses off to settle in to actual work-work. Hope you’re well. If you can, write in with a sentence or a paragraph about how you like your coffee! And as always, feel free to share with someone you think may enjoy this.

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Links

• Boss Barista, Ashley Rodriguez' excellent newsletter about the coffee industry and the nuances of coffee drinking. Also a podcast!

• My ridiculous map of too many hipster coffee places in Mexico City. since the coffee there is excellent and worth making a trip for, among so many other things.

• A long list of interesting things you probably didn't know about coffee, such as the fact that it has been officially banned in places (as it now is in my life). There's even a pop quiz at the end!

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Images: Spider Diagram, Flat White vs Cappuccino, Cafe De Olla, Espresso Tonic, Cold Brew Lemonade, Carajillo, Café, Aeropress

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Originally published on September 22, 2022