Starting the day with cappuccino is a fine way to practice a little self-care. This is indulgence with a kick.
- 1/3 C 2% milk
- 3 T finely ground espresso or dark roast
- 1 t sugar – rounded and spilling over
- pinch of nutmeg or cinnamon or both
Set the frothing cup on the edge of a burner so the handle doesn’t heat. Set heat to medium high and add milk. Swirl the cup once in awhile to make sure the milk doesn’t scorch.
While the milk is heating, bring water to a boil and scoop finely ground beans into a French Press.
Get out a thick mug or cup and saucer. Save the dainty cup for tea. Over-flow the rounded teaspoon of sugar into the bottom of the mug.
Swirl the milk again, as it heats.
When the water boils, remove from heat, letting the boil subside and pour about a 1/4 to 1/3 cup in the French Press, depending on how strong you like your espresso.
Swirl the milk.
Pour bowls of cereal for the kids.
Check to see if milk is steaming. You’ll be able to feel the warmth when you hold your hand over the cup.
Take the milk off the heat.
Slowly press the plunger on the French Press.
Over the kitchen sink, submerge the Aerolatte frothing wand in the top inch of the hot milk. Watch the level of the milk rise as the foam increases. It’s fun and somewhat magical, and it makes you feel a bit like a pro barista without the attitude.
Set the cup of froth aside for a minute to let the foam stiffen.
Pour the espresso over the sugar in the mug. Stir. With the same spoon, hold back the stiff foam as you pour the hot milk into the sweetened espresso. Gently ladle the foam on top of the hot milky espresso goodness. Keep spooning foam on top to form a peak.
Dust with nutmeg or cinnamon or the cinnamon/sugar stuff you use to make the kids’ cinnamon toast.
At this point, I let the kids watch a show while I sit by myself in the kitchen.
No one will see the foam on my lips.
No one will tell me not to add another small pinch of sugar.
No one will stand in front of me and tell me what I’ve done wrong, or what I am about to do wrong.
No one will roll his eyes at my sitting for a moment to take some time out of my morning to do something for myself.
As I take another sip and exhale from sheer contentment, I count my blessings.
No one will give me his list of what he expects me to do for him today.
No one will tell me how I over-cooked last night’s dinner.
No one will remind me that the floors need scrubbing or the laundry needs folding or the kids need haircuts.
No one will try to manipulate me or control me or dismiss me or take me for granted.
No one will tsk tsk in disgust when I use a spoon to scrape the last of the froth from the sides of the mug.
The secret ingredient in my cappuccino is freedom.