Week 51

It pays to be nice, at least to your barista. Antonia and I visit the coffee shop in our library fairly regularly, so this is important.

I bought a large mug with the Starbucks' logo so I can get discounted coffee. I can't really drink that much coffee in one sitting, so the two of us split it. Actually, Antonia brings her own cup and they pour some in both. I always feel a naughty guilt when they do this, since I'm certain it is against Corporate Policy. Usually the baristas fill each mug more than half full, so it is even a better deal for us. Sometimes, if the manager isn't paying close attention, they will give us even more.

On International Days we speak different languages with the baristas, and they give us free coffee. We were trying our hand at Swahili recently, but very poorly. ("Ama ga hle." "Sal a ga hle.")

If someone doesn't pick up their froufrou drink, Antonia rushes up to claim it. More delicious guilt.

There is a photograph running in the rotation on the University's home page. The picture includes Antonia. One of the barista's jokingly asked her for her autograph. She declined and we laughed.

I write down the baristas' names in my restaurant database. It doesn't help me when they swap name tags. Maybe they know about my database.

To show our appreciation, we sometimes bring in treats for the baristas. Antonia usually takes care of this, but she was baking cookies for the Listening Room last week so I thought I might as well help out. Something Christmas-y should do. You can't go wrong with snickerdoodles ("fun to say ... to sniff ... to eat!") I thought. I just wish recipes in general were more explicit. "Shortening" for example. As soon as I saw that, I knew I was in trouble. I called Antonia. I could use butter instead. Unsalted. And take it out of the refrigerator now so it will soften.

I always wondered what cream of tartar really is. Darien didn't know either, so I looked it up. It turns out it is a byproduct of wine-making -- potassium bitartrate. It doesn't really add to the taste of the food; it is used more for its chemical properties, such as stabilizing egg whites and preventing other foods from crystallizing. Just remember, it is "not to be confused with Tartar sauce."

I didn't start making the cookies until 10 PM, so I put the dough in the freezer to chill. I rolled the dough into balls, the size of small walnuts, just like Betty instructed me. Darien said they looked more like large walnuts. They still came out ok. In fact, they tasted pretty awesome. Part of it was the cinnamon. This is the first time we had bought the Spice Hunter brand, and it seems to make a difference. I recommend it. I'll have to make some french toast soon.

I saved half of the dough in the freezer so I can bake some when Peter is home. The baristas seemed to appreciate our effort, ensuring many more months of good service. My only qualm about the whole experience is that Betty lied about the recipe making five dozen cookies. After taking into account all the raw dough I consumed, there is no way you can get that many cookies out of it.

I hate to be a whiner, but things really are deteriorating around here.