Once you set foot inside the densely-packed warehouse off of Brick Lane in Shoreditch, something in you snaps. The self-awareness courses through your veins like a shot of fair-trade, Ethiopian espresso (with citrus notes.) You’re at The London Coffee Festival, and it’s offiical.
You are a coffee snob. (And dangerously close to hipster.)
That’s right, I went to The London Coffee Festival with a couple of like-minded friends. We waited in the cold, splattering rain in a queue that wrapped around the warehouse for 20 minutes just to get in. You can judge all you want, judgey McJudgerson, but it was freaking awesome. Booth after booth of coffee samples, carefully prepared from shiny espresso machines. Barrista contests! Not one, not two, but THREE espresso martini bars. Places to lounge and sip your excessively delicious sustainably-sourced fifth shot of espresso in bean bag chairs, the live acoustic guitar music mellowing out your electric caffeine high to a pleasant buzz.
My lactose-intolerant friend found a new soya product especially made to froth in her espresso machine. I almost bought a reusable coffee cup designed to look like a disposable coffee cup. Is this madness? Or genius? I don’t care! I want it! We stopped at a booth and waited for 10 minutes for this guy to magic us some coffee I couldn’t pronounce. We wanted to see what ‘gamey’ coffee tasted like. Give me 100g of that, that stuff I can’t pronounce!! It does taste ‘gamey’! I believe you! I can taste the ‘hint of apple’, I swear!
Are we coffee snobs? Yes. But self aware snobs. And that makes us better than other snobs.