The Character of Coffee
How Coffee To-Go Is Changing the World
In Spain, they don’t really have coffee to-go.
So when I flew back to Colorado three months later, I had a reverse culture shock. The barista filled up a white paper cup. Seeing the ceramic cups on top of the espresso machine, I thought he’d give me one of those. But he didn’t. I probably gave him a funny frown. [1]
I came to the coffee shop to sit down, not take coffee to-go. So why did I get a paper cup?
Clearly, I loved being a Spaniard. But the paper cup reminded me: to-go coffee is the default here.
It’s the go-to.
You see in Spain, coffee is an experience. It’s a social activity. Even for a quick coffee you might lean over the bar and chat with the barista over a tiny cup of espresso. You might sit down outside, enjoy the sun, have a cigarette, and order a coffee or a beer. It’s slow. You won’t see too many laptops.
And of course, you get a real cup.
But the other day I wanted to go for a hike, so I stormed the Starbucks drive-thru to get a coffee for the drive, and once I got to the mountains, I decided I wanted to hike fast, so I didn’t even put the car in park: I powered my fat Ford-850 over the trail and didn’t care if I ruined the route for other people because I really wanted to get the hike done ASAP, so I could get home and do all the things I needed to get done, like deleting junk mail and making sure spam callers didn’t say anything important and checking my Twitter and making sure that I didn’t miss anything important on the news.
Not.
And you know what I missed? Nothing but the hike. The sun. The blue jays. The moose. Nature. Life. If I really wanted to be efficient, I should’ve never left my house. [2]
To-go coffee culture makes sense. Why not get a paper cup if I can get to work 600 seconds faster? It’s more efficient. But like caffeine, it’s toxic in excess. Efficiency bleeds into our leisure time. It’s like being a full-time paramedic on 9-1-1 coffee calls.
For Americans, coffee is more of a means to an end: it’s a brown background beverage that we take on the go. But because we’re used to coffee on-the-go, sitting down feels like a wonderful waste of time. [3]
Paper coffee cups have changed the character of coffee. Real coffee cups in Spain make it clear: coffee isn’t only a drink — it’s leisure. It’s a hobby. Same with three-hour dinners, mid-day siestas, and slow-mo walking. I’ll never forget those two old ladies sitting outside with their wine and cigarettes at two in the morning on a Tuesday. Shouldn’t they be in bed?
It was fascinating to see a world that didn’t revolve around work. It felt lazy to me, but it was normal to them. They worked to live, not the reverse.
Work to Live
I once met an Italian girl living in Valencia. I asked her why the unemployment rate was so high in Spain. She told me: “people just don’t want to work!”
Laughing, I ask her: “then what do they do?”
She told me they work if they need money. They spend time with family, go to church, have hobbies, volunteer, and walk to a cafetería. So that’s why restaurants are full of Spaniards on a Tuesday afternoon.
People actually work to live? Even as an American, it’s hard to believe that. If busy is good for us, that means we value what we do. Maybe Spaniards value who they are instead. It’s less about status and social signaling.
Process > Outcome
I once met a French girl who studied abroad in the US.
She told me she was always surprised that Amercians had a plan for everything. Her roomates would only go out if they had an end goal in mind, like picking up groceries.
She told me that in Paris, a common way to hang out was going on spontaneous walks in the city. Not planning the details. Just going out. Maybe stopping for a coffee. It’s slower. There’s no external reward but the walk itself.
But when we’re eternally efficient, we miss out on the slower, meaningful details of the human experience. Ordering books on Amazon is faster, but we miss out on the smell and serendipity of a local bookstore. Texting is easier, but we miss out on the sound and personality of our friend’s voice shining through our phones. Abraham Lincoln famously said, “I’m a slow walker, but I never walk back.”
I still try to be a Spaniard. I like to wander, walk slow, and beg for a real cup of coffee. I try to absorb the coffee experience: standing in line, sitting at a wobbly table, and appreciating every sip of the warm liquid that won’t last as long without a lid, which weirdly makes me enjoy it more.
It helps soothe my Type A ambition and enjoy life more.
Paper cups remind me that we don’t have to be doing something all the time. It’s ok to sit on your ass for five minutes and enjoy the coffee. It’s not a waste of time.
Thanks for reading,
Baxter
Notes
[1] I spent around three months in Europe—mostly Spain and Italy. I forgot about to-go coffee, so this was a true surprise! That’s what’s cool about travel: you learn more about where you’re from, too.
Coffee customs are similar between Spain and Italy. Some coffee shops in the US still serve real cups, but the default tends to be paper. Why? If it saves a business money and a customer time, why not? With more technological progress, we just need to be careful about the battle between efficiency and humanity.
[2] 4 Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman inspired this idea. Here’s the full quote:
“Even a walk to the supermarket has a goal—getting to the supermarket—whereas on a hike, you either follow a loop or reach a given point before turning back, so the most efficient way to reach the endpoint would be never to leave in the first place.”
[3] To-go coffee culture is more than an American thing. In Spain I first saw paper coffee cups in Madrid but don’t recall them in Sevilla, Málaga, or Granda. I’d have to go back a second time to really observe this. It could be more of a trend with technological progress. Spain and Italy are just living in the past with their fancy clothes and shiny coffee cups (which I’m not opposed to).
Special Thanks to all the members at Write of Passage involved in this essay:
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I loved your stories spanning from Spain, to the Italian girl living in Valencia, to the French girl who studied abroad in the US.
I also enjoyed seeing your title: The Character of Coffee. That's a coined title right there!
Cheers to this entire essay.
Cheers to this point below, as well. There's a lot I, and people in the U.S, can learn from others living in different cultures around the world.
"Paper coffee cups have changed the character of coffee. Real coffee cups in Spain make it clear: coffee isn’t only a drink — it’s leisure. It’s a hobby. Same with three-hour dinners, mid-day siestas, and slow-mo walking. I’ll never forget those two old ladies sitting outside with their wine and cigarettes at two in the morning on a Tuesday. Shouldn’t they be in bed?
It was fascinating to see a world that didn’t revolve around work. It felt lazy to me, but it was normal to them. They worked to live, not the reverse."
Great insights about take out coffee, culture, and efficiency!
I got into pour over coffee and using a hand grinder 6 years ago. I studied everything about it - the process, the variables that affect taste, and the equipment.
The way grind size, water temp, pouring speed, and bloom time affect taste intrigued the chemistry minor part of my brain. Too cold, too hot, too fast, too small, too large - small variations can ruin your cup. It requires attention to detail.
The process takes longer and makes fewer cups, but the quality is so much better. Making coffee is part of my morning mindfulness ritual. If forces me to slow down and sets the tone for my day.