Mocha, She Wrote

by Ellie Alexander

  “We saved a double chocolate marshmallow cookie for you, Jules,” Sterling said. He pushed the plate toward me. “How’s Andy holding up?”

  “I couldn’t find him.”

  “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.” Mom squeezed my hand. “Second place. He’s doing great, and the next round is where he’s really going to impress the judges. I tasted his signature drink yesterday and I was blown away.”

  “Right?” Bethany nodded with enthusiasm. “His hot honey latte is like the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I might forego a boyfriend for another cup of that deliciousness.”

  June’s eyes twinkled. “Don’t do that, honey. No coffee is worth it.”

  Sterling laughed. “Wise advice.”

  “Okay fine. Maybe not, but it was to-die-for good.” Bethany blushed.

  We finished our dessert and made our way to the ballroom together.

  Andy raced through a side door as we took our seats. He sprinted to wash his hands and get back to his station as James went over the rules for the third round.

  “Folks, this is my favorite part of the day. Our world-class coffee judges have studied each of our barista’s techniques and compared classic cups of cappuccinos and espressos. Now it’s time for our baristas to show off their creativity. Welcome to the signature-drinks round!”

  He motioned for more applause.

  Andy made it to his station and tied on his apron. I wondered where he had gone. Hopefully, Mom was right. Maybe he’d gotten outside to clear his head and shake off his nerves.

  “Get ready to see some of the most innovative flavor profiles on the planet,” James continued. “Our contestants will be preparing signature drinks for our judges. Kale latte? Watermelon cold brew? Who knows? Their drinks will be scored on originality, the balance of the flavors, and, of course, on their technical skills. I’ll be interviewing each barista as they make their drinks. They have twenty minutes for this round. Good luck and let’s get brewing!”

  Everyone cheered as the bell sounded.

  James approached Diaz’s station first. “Hey man, how does it feel to be in the lead?”

  “Good. Not surprising. I knew I would be in first and that’s not changing after this round.” He flexed.

  “That’s getting annoying,” Mom whispered.

  “Wowza! Folks, how’s that for confidence?” James let out a whistle.

  Diaz shrugged as he tamped a shot. “It’s called having a winning attitude.”

  “I like it. I like it.” James clapped. “What signature drink are you brewing up for the judges?”

  “This is my diablo chocolate. It’s on fire and going to blow the judges’ minds.”

  “That sounds spicy,” James commented.

  Mom leaned in and whispered. “Oh no, Andy’s doing a spicy drink too.”

  “What’s in your diablo chocolate?” James asked.

  “Mexican chocolate—the best in the world—a combination of secret spices, and an avocado purée.” Diaz reached for one of his avocados and tossed it in the air like ball.

  James turned to the audience. “Folks, I wasn’t kidding about crazy combinations. You heard that right. Avocado coffee. Can’t wait to hear what our sensory judges have to say about that. Good luck, Diaz.”

  Diaz paused just long enough to pose for the crowd and soak up the applause.

  James moved on to Sammy. “How’s our reigning national champ doing?”

  She glared at him. “Working.”

  “Right. I’ll keep this short. Tell your coffee fans what you’re brewing up for the judges.”

  Sammy didn’t move. James had to thrust the mic toward her mouth as she poured milk into a steaming stainless steel pitcher. “I’m making a coconut-mushroom-infused latte with smoky vanilla and cardamom.”

  James bowed. “Okay, okay, folks. Let’s all simmer down. We’re two drinks in and we’ve got mushrooms and avocados in the mix. Let’s talk to our local boy, Andy.”

  Andy smiled.

  “How do you feel being wedged in the middle of these top-notch competitors?” James held the microphone for Andy.

  “I’m honored to be here.”

  “Awww. Did you hear that folks? I believe that’s what you call humble.”

  Everyone let out a small collective “Awww.”

  “Does your signature drink involve mushrooms or avocados?”

  Andy shook his head. “Nope. I’m going for a hot honey latte.”

  “Hot honey. Nice.” James leaned over Andy’s shoulder for a better look as Andy drizzled honey into the bottom of a ceramic coffee mug. He had warmed the honey for thirty seconds before adding it to the cup. I had memorized every step of Andy’s process after watching him create the drink at least three dozen times at the bakeshop.

  Diaz smirked. “Sounds like a grandma drink,” he goaded Andy.

  Andy had the perfect retort. “Actually, my grandma’s in the front row and this drink is for her. She’s my inspiration for this drink and the reason I’m competing in the Barista Cup.” He waved to June, who blew him kisses as the crowd let out another “Awww” of approval.

  James moved on to interview the other three contestants. One was making a strawberry latte, the other a red velvet mocha, and the last an herb inspired latte with rosemary and thyme.

  Minutes later the final buzzer sounded and the round was over. The camera crew zoomed in for close-up shots of all the drinks. The strawberry latte was a beautiful pale pink with the outline of a strawberry in the foam. Diaz had hollowed out avocado shells. Rather than serving his drink in a mug, he had poured it into the shells. Andy’s drink looked elegant with its dusting of chocolate shavings and flaked sea salt.

  The volunteers served each sensory judge. Unlike in the first two rounds, each judge would share their thoughts about the drinks with the audience in real time.

  Diaz was up first.

  Benson looked at the avocado shell. “Am I supposed to drink out of this?”

  “Yep. That’s part of the sensory experience,” Diaz replied, not sounding the slightest bit fazed by Benson’s intense stare.

  “How interesting.” Benson lifted the avocado to his lips, closed his eyes, and tasted the drink. “Hmm. I’m getting touches of the sweetness of the avocado followed by that heat on the back of my tongue. Not bad. Not bad, but it’s quite thick isn’t it? And I don’t want to be served in a discarded shell. I’m definitely docking you points for aesthetics.”

  Diaz shrugged.

  Did nothing get to him?

  The judges were unanimous in their critique of the red velvet latte—claiming it was cloyingly sweet.

  Benson removed his glasses, squinting at the barista. “You call this coffee? This is a gut-bomb. This is liquid dessert. It doesn’t deserve to be called coffee. How dare you offend my palate with this.”

  The crowd winced with the barista at Benson’s caustic words.

  The judges were split on the strawberry latte. Not surprisingly, Benson wasn’t a fan.

  “If I wanted a strawberry milkshake, I would order a strawberry milkshake. Where’s the coffee in this? I’m not getting anything. This is a drink for a little girl in pink pigtails at the playground. Don’t you dare call this coffee.”

  The reviews were mixed for the herbed latte as well. One judge called it “cutting edge.” Benson, not surprisingly, deemed it a “coffee not even wild deer would stop to savor.”

  They moved on to Sammy’s drink, and the reviews were gushing. Even Benson fawned over her creativity. “Mark my words, you’re going to see mushrooms on the menu at every coffee shop in the county soon. This is brilliant. Nothing short of brilliant. Too bad you shot yourself in the foot in the first two rounds.”

  Sammy pouted.

  Andy’s drink was the last to be judged. Mom clasped her hand around mine as the first two judges praised his latte. They had wonderful things to say about his depth of flavor, the heat from the honey, and his latte art.

  That changed once Benson picked up his cu
p. Like he had with the other drinks, he closed his eyes and took a sip. To my horror, he spit Andy’s drink out.

  Everyone gasped.

  June clasped her hands around her bundle of yarn.

  Mom clutched my hand tighter. “Oh no.”

  “This is vile! Foul.” Benson’s tongue hung from his mouth. He fumbled for his water glass and waved to James. “I need a palate cleanser—stat.”

  James went to fill a fresh glass of water for him.

  “How could he hate Andy’s drink that much?” I asked Mom.

  “I have no idea. The other judges loved it. Maybe it’s not his favorite, but to spit it out?” Her eyes drifted to Andy, who hung his head.

  “What did you put in this?” Benson repeatedly ran his tongue from side to side as if trying to rid his palate of the taste. He swished water in his mouth, spit it out, and did it again.

  Andy rattled off the list of ingredients.

  Benson wagged a finger at him. “Son, you’re missing something. You made a grave mistake. A fatal error. There’s at least a quarter cup of salt in this drink. Do you want to come taste for yourself?”

  “No. That’s not possible,” Andy protested. “I added a tiny touch of flaked sea salt. That’s it.”

  “You have a heavy hand with the salting, kid. This tastes like sea water. It’s completely undrinkable.”

  Andy looked stunned.

  James handed Benson the glass of water. “Folks, we’ll take a quick break to tally up the scores and be back to announce who will be competing in the finals tomorrow.”

  Andy approached the judges’ table. He said to something to Benson, and then picked up his drink.

  “Is he tasting it?” Mom asked.

  “I think so.”

  We watched as Andy tasted his signature latte and then, like Benson, spit it out.

  Chapter Seven

  My mouth hung open. I blinked twice. Had my eyes deceived me? It looked like Andy had spit out his own coffee, but that couldn’t be right.

  “Did you see that?” Sterling asked. He looked as shocked as I felt.

  “Why would Andy do that?” Bethany wrapped a strand of her bouncy curls around her finger.

  “I have no idea.” June’s serene face wrinkled in bewilderment. “That’s so unlike him.”

  Andy took another sip and gagged it down.

  There must be something wrong with his coffee.

  He massaged his temples as Benson shouted at him. “You should be automatically disqualified for serving me this filth. You’ve fried my taste buds with this salt travesty. I might have to sue you.”

  The other two judges stepped in to defend Andy. One of them offered her drink for Benson to taste. He refused. She handed it to Andy.

  We watched as Andy sampled the drink. He nodded emphatically after he tasted it. “This is what I served you, sir. Please try it.”

  Benson folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve already tasted and scored your drink. Nothing is going to change that. No amount of begging is going to persuade me to put that to my lips again.”

  “But, someone must have sabotaged my drink,” Andy protested. “The other two samples are perfect.”

  “Sabotage?” Benson threw his head back and laughed. “Please, kid. You got distracted. That’s what this competition does to people. It rattles your nerves. You weren’t focused. You dumped a handful of salt in instead of a dusting. I’ve seen it again and again. You can’t handle the pressure. This is the West Coast Barista Cup. This is where we separate the men from the boys. I’ve watched you sweat your way through each round. I’m not at all surprised this happened.”

  Andy looked crushed. He hung his head and shuffled back to his station to await his fate.

  “Sorry,” I mouthed to him.

  He threw his hands up in disbelief.

  James returned to the mic with the results. “Well folks, I warned you that things might heat up, and they sure did. I have the results of who is going through to the final rounds tomorrow. As the competition gets tighter, this gets harder and harder as we lose one contestant after another.”

  Andy buried his face in his hands.

  “Poor Andy, he worked so hard for this.” Bethany sounded heartbroken.

  “In last place … I hate this part.” James paused.

  I didn’t get the sense that he did hate it. He seemed like he was enjoying the spotlight and watching the contestants squirm.

  “We are saying goodbye to a competitor who quickly won the hearts of our fans. His drinks were solid and steady, but unfortunately the judges agreed that his signature drink had some fatal flaws.”

  “It’s Andy,” Bethany said, fighting back tears.

  I couldn’t argue. It sounded like Andy’s time in the competition was about to be done. I knew he wouldn’t be ready to hear this anytime soon, but he could compete again next year. Making it through the third round on his first try was something he should be proud of.

  “This was a squeaker, folks. Only one point separated fifth and sixth place, which tells us how great these baristas are. In the end it was red velvet that did him in. Cake in a cup did not resonate with our judges. Let’s give it up for our barista leaving the competition.”

  “He’s in! He’s in!” Bethany clasped her hands together and grinned.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  Andy glanced around him like he hadn’t heard correctly.

  “In fifth place, our local boy, Andy, made it through in a nail-biter.”

  We all looked to one another in stunned silence.

  The barista who made the herbed latte landed in fourth, while the strawberry latte took third. Sammy was second, and Diaz maintained his position at the top. James gave everyone a brief overview of the rundown for tomorrow and encouraged us to peruse the vendor booths on our way out. The crowd dispersed.

  We went to check in with Andy. Sterling embraced him in a man hug. Bethany kissed him on the cheek and made him pose for photos with his grandmother.

  “You two are the cutest,” she gushed, urging June and Andy to hug. “Everyone on social is going to eat this up.”

  Mom pressed her hands together. “I knew you could do it.”

  “Me too,” I added. “See? All that sweat and worry for nothing.”

  “Not nothing.” Andy shook his head. “You saw Benson spit out my drink, right?”

  “It would have been hard to miss,” Mom said, staring at the judges’ table where Benson and Piper were arguing.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Andy sighed. “I have no idea. I know for a fact that it wasn’t because I was rattled or nervous like he said. I mean, yeah, I’ve been hyped for the competition, and I’ve been nervous, but not to the point that I would have mistakenly dumped a bunch of salt into my latte. No way. I told them that.”

  “Was it really bad?” Bethany bit her bottom lip.

  “It was horrible.” Andy shuddered. “Like, seriously undrinkable. Benson wasn’t exaggerating, there must have been a few tablespoons of salt in there. I don’t understand how. I made all three drinks in specific order. I warmed the spicy honey, then added some to each mug. I poured in shots of espresso, added the steamed milk, and finished them with chocolate shavings and flaked sea salt. There’s no way I could have added that much salt. You guys saw me, right?” Andy picked up a ramekin with the flaked salt and demonstrated. “I did this. I literally sprinkled a few flakes on each drink.”

  “And you don’t think Benson was showboating for attention?” I asked.

  “No,” Andy was adamant. “I tasted it. It was terrible. He wasn’t exaggerating. I could barely swallow down a sip without throwing up.”

  “Did you get a good look at your mugs before you started pulling shots?” I asked.

  Andy wrinkled his brow. “Why?”

  I paused and looked to Diaz and Sammy, who were waiting for a word with the judges. “Do you think someone could have added the salt?”

  “Yeah. Thank you for sayin
g that, boss.” Andy reached out to June for comfort. She rubbed his shoulder in sweet gesture of solidarity. “That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking, but I was wondering if I was making myself crazy.”

  “Who would do something like that?” Mom asked.

  “Diaz? Sammy? One of the other competitors?”

  “Yeah, but why? I wasn’t even in the lead. It doesn’t make sense.” Andy ran his fingers though his shaggy hair. “I think I would have noticed a bunch of salt in the bottom of one of the mugs.”

  “Would you?” I pressed. Benson could have a valid point. Andy was nervous. I didn’t believe that he would have dumped that much salt into his latte, but could he have missed that there was flaky salt already in one of his mugs? That was more probable.

  He scratched his head. “I mean, I think so. I guess it’s a possibility. I was concentrating on timing my shots. I warmed the honey so it was thin and easy to incorporate into the milk. I guess I didn’t spend much time assessing the mugs.” He trailed off.

  “Well, the good news is that you made it through.” As always, Mom shifted to the positive outcome. “Tomorrow is a brand-new day and you’ll wow them.”

  Andy forced a smile. “Thanks, Mrs. C.” He stopped and shook his head. “Old habits. Mrs. The Professor.”

  Mom winked.

  “Do you have stuff to do tonight?” Sterling asked. “Bethany and I were wondering if you wanted to grab hamburgers? Steph said she could meet us at the Burger Shack.”

  Andy looked to June.

  Her eyes drifted to Bethany then back to him. “You kids go have fun. I’m heading home. Thank you for such a delightful day. You know you are always a winner in my book.” She patted his arm and left.

  Andy blushed. “Yeah, burgers sound good. That would be cool. Can you give me five minutes?”

  “Sure. We were going to go check out the vendors anyway.”

  Sterling, Bethany, and Mom headed for the foyer. I hung back. “Is everything okay? Is there anything I can do?”