How Not To Make a Caffe Latte I was lucky enough to be introduced to Italian coffees and all that goes with them by a lover in college. Really good coffee isn't such a big thing, but the culture surrounding it can make interesting changes in your life. Being in a coffee house for the second or third espresso makes you think very clearly about things that don't matter. You read Village Voice and can see their perspective. Like any good mind-altering drug, coffee has its refinements and protocols. Making a latte the wrong way actually has a bigger impact than using sub-par ingredients. In fact, the mass merchants actually use very good ingredients but are so oafish in their execution that the final experience is quite poor. However, unlike any other mind-altering drug I can think of right now, you can have just about the best capuccino in the world for less than $5 retail; make it yourself, and you're talking $1 of ingredients. This is truly affordable luxury. But only if it's done right. So let's take a lesson in how NOT to make a caffee latte. We'll take an imaginary journey to the seventh level of hell: that's right, your neighborhood Starbucks. Your neightborhood doesn't have a Starbucks? Don't worry, it will. Now I have nothing against these rain-soaked purveyors of supercharged swill. Like any chain, they've brought at least a hint of civilization to some very barren wastelands I've had to do business in. The only thing I resent about them is that they hire idiot-savants whose savantry is limited to making change and finding the "on" button for the machines. The good news for espresso drinkers is that practically everyone gets the coffee part right. Bully for the savants. The art of a Latte is the foamed milk, and nearly everyone gets the milk wrong. It's supposed to be quite warm, and have a head of foam at least an inch thick. It's nice if it's served in a glass mug, and the coffee is poured in carefully to make layers of brown, white, and tan. Usually, the milk has been scalded and has neither head nor layers. If you're experienced, you can tell from the sound of the milk while being foamed that it is being slaughtered. It's the same sound of putting a soufle in a blender. So, as a service to humanity at large, herewith a summary of Starbuck's training course in how (not) to make a latte: * start with warm milk. * put that stupid little thermometer in the milk. * put the steam jet in the milk and let her rip with all the steam you've got. look at the little thermometer numbers with all the savant-intensity you can muster without wetting yourself. * move the milk vessel furiously up and down, making sure that you let the jet swish those the bubbles all over the place. hum along with the Barry Manilow in the background. * When the foam starts to grow very fast indicating the milk is close to boiling, keep watching. Only 45 seconds to go! * Pour the foamed milk on top of the coffee. * Put a plastic top on the coffee cup to make sure and smash down any foam that is there.