Food Writing Assignment #1

Here you go people: my already-reviewed assignments for my Food Writing class. Be gentle. My grammar is getting progressively worse the older I get and I care less about that.

My first assignment was to sit in a coffee house. (You heard right.) While observing the goings on at the shop, noting details, and observing, I was to keep notes on what I heard, saw, smelled, tasted, and touched. After getting home, or the next day, I had to write up what I observed to create a 500 word essay. After that was done, I needed to cut that essay down to 350 words, trying to retain the 'flavor' and 'essence' of the coffee shop observation. It is an exercise in editing and word-play. I'll post both, although I'm not sure how interested you would be in reading both versions. There's a lot of them there words and such, so maybe take a coffee break in-between or something.

Cafe Grumpy - 500

In a place that feels like you need an invitation to hang out in, lies a coffee shop that has no more on its sign that a simple, grumpy face. Cafe Grumpy has cuteness going for it, despite its name and the customers and employees live up to the polar opposite of Grumpy consistently. The shop is always crowded and full of hipsters. Again, despite the name Grumpy, this coffee shop sells organic, free-trade coffees and teas. They also appear to do all of their own roasting and grinding on the spot, and sometimes to order.

It is the kind of place where you see things like Bard sweatshirts on laughing, bearded dudes and (whether it is your cup of tea or not) spiritual-awakening-type conversation happening behind you with things being said such as: “I'm beginning to know what I know. Then I forget.” If you are lucky, the customers can be entertaining. For example, the Bard dude looks like the guy in the Cavemen commercial – the Caveman. The customers live up to their hipster image and people wear crochet hats and pashminas and quirky scarves that they either picked up off the street, at a flea market, or in a designer store. In any case, they paid a high price. Not one of the workers has a so-called 'normal' haircut. When people leave they are more layered than a 3 year-old at Christmas in Maine.

As I was observing, some crumbs from my shortbread butter-stained my page and I tried not to bring attention to the fact that I spilled tea all over the shaky little table I scored because spilling tea is the mark of a newbie, or some other such name given to people who perform faux pas at this Chelsea tea house.

The customers ask for a particular grinding method for their latte, which is funny when you think about it because if you aren't the type of person to ask for a particular grind for your coffee, it seems pompous.

There was some interaction, in a sense, between patrons. The small, mini-pug-looking dog leashed to the short iron fence outside snubbed me. I considered that a successful interaction with a fellow customer, which is sometimes rare in these coffee shops where you either come alone and stay alone, or come in a group and discuss the Tao te Ching with your friends, then leave.

The music is coming from an ipod and it sounds like soda shop music because the song “Sugar Pie” just came on “I can't help myself. I love you and nobody else”. “I Want to Know What Love Is” just came on the ipod jukebox as my first cup of tea is out of water.

Books are barely being read and I'm wondering if they are just for appearance's sake. It could be that the customers are just so amazingly mesmerized by the orange walls, mirrored walls, and brick walls. I wonder if anyone has an aneurysm upon exiting.

Towards the end, a guy with blue USA Olympic-looking parka/coat comes into the cafe with a Starbucks coffee, orders a coffee, then leaves five minutes later with his jockey-looking boy toy.

Cafe Grumpy - 350

Here lies a coffee shop whose sign has, simply, a grumpy face. The customers and employees live up to the polar opposite of grumpy. The shop is always full of hipsters. They sell organic, free-trade coffees and teas. They appear to do all of their own roasting and grinding on the spot, and to order.

It's the kind of place where you see Bard sweatshirts on bearded dudes and overhear spiritual-awakening conversations with things being said such as: “I'm beginning to know what I know. Then I forget”. The Bard dude looks like The Caveman. Customers live up to their hipster image by wearing crochet hats, pashminas, and quirky scarves that cost a lot. There are no 'normal' haircuts and when people leave they are more layered than a 3 year-old at Christmas in Maine.

Some crumbs from my shortbread butter-stained my page and I tried not to bring attention to the fact that I spilled tea all over the shaky table I scored because spilling tea is the mark of a newbie.

Customers ask for a particular grinding method for their latte, which is funny if you aren't the type of person to ask for a particular grind for your coffee.

Interaction is limited. The mini-pug dog leashed to the iron fence snubbed me. I considered that a successful interaction with a fellow customer. This is rare in coffee shops where you either come alone and stay alone, or come in a group and discuss the Tao te Ching with your friends, then leave.

The music coming from an ipod sounds like soda shop music. I Can't Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch) plays. I Want to Know What Love Is comes on the jukebox as my first cup of tea is out of water.

Books are barely being read. Are just for appearance's sake? People could just be so mesmerized by the orange, mirrored, and brick walls. Does anyone have an aneurysm upon exiting?

A guy with a blue USA Olympic-looking parka/coat comes in, orders a coffee, then leaves five minutes later with his jockey-looking boy toy.