I love Seattle coffee, I miss Seattle coffee, I have actually started dreaming about Seattle coffee.
The last three nights I have had dreams about going into a warm steaming coffee shop: the way it gets when the rain is evaporating off everyone’s clothing and umbrellas and making droplet’s on the windows inside. The dream is always the same, I go in to order a soul-soothing-brew and something always stops me before my quivering lips and hit that long awaited cup.
My night time wandering have me drooling over thick, foaming, dark chocolate mochas- with just a tiny hint of brown sugary goodness, longing for a tall, spicy, gingery, chai latté, pining for feather light, nutty cappuccinos.
Oh Café Luna my island home! The watering hole of all good coffee-goers and small town chatting!
Oh Cherry Street! With their lattés strong and beautiful!
Don’t get me wrong, Corrientine coffee isn’t bad. In fact Buenos Aires is know of the Paris of the South, and that Euro-flavor spills throughout Argentina which means sidewalk cafés and café cortados, they even have cappuccinos, just not how we make them back at home in nice fat cups steaming and rain-evaporating-hand-warming-quantities. I love it here, I really do, but someone please send me a little of that hometown liquid love!