Lilac Colored Glasses

I fell in love on my second day working in the coffee kiosk.

It was an immediate gut reaction coupled with a hungry desire to explore the object of my lust.

The cream whipper. My precioussssssss.

Many of our drinks come with the option of whipped cream, so we go through somewhere around 10-12 liters a day. When I was learning how to make the cream I was told that we put a bit of vanilla syrup into the cream as well, to sweeten it up a bit.
Well then of course I looked at our multitude of other flavor options and began to dream.
Sweet, sweet daydreams of hazelnut whipped cream or cherry whipped cream or, even something more intriguing like banana coconut whipped cream. Oh the possibilities! But sadly, I’ve never seen a cream whipper anywhere aside from coffee bars.

Until this week.

Yes, Cloruyt is selling this in it’s Collishop store (where I believe we may register for a few things for the Belgian reception).

Now I just have to convince CB that it is a necessary part of our future life together…

Please stop tossing your money across the counter at me. It does not make you look cool and it is not in any way, shape or form polite. I understand if you choose to place your money on the counter, but please stop throwing it.

Please speak to me when you are buying something. even if it’s just a brownie. Do not pick it up, hold it up in the air and stare at me like you’re mute. Part of the whole customer/barista interaction is… y’know… the interaction. Speak!!!

For the umpteenth time, if you’re in a hurry, do not order a cappuccino. Milk foaming takes time. If we tried to predict/premake everyone’s order, you’d all end up with cold, nasty drinks. If you want something fast, ask for something prepackaged in a bottle.

No, we do not sell phone cards, bus tickets, sandwiches or beer. Just because we’re the only place that is open late and on Sunday does not mean that all the other shops in the station give us their inventory to sell to you. We are a coffee stand. We sell coffee.

When the metal covers are pulled over the windows and locked and the lights outside of the kiosk are off it means we are closed. Open windows means open. Closed means closed. No, we can not break your 50€ bill. No, we will not make you a coffee. Closed means exactly that: closed.

And last, but definitely not least, the hole in the lid of the take-away cup is for drinking, not for straws. I know you all, as a country, seem to be unable to comprehend drinking your coffee through a hole in a lid, but really, trust me, it’s much easier than sucking 180° hot chocolate through a straw. You’re probably drinking melted plastic that way anyway. Drink your coffee through the hole.

Thank you and please come again.

As long as you follow these basic rules.

It’s not abnormal for me to take orders in multiple languages.

Dutch and English are easy, obviously, and I know enough French to get through most of those orders as well (although for some odd reason, I always mess up eighty and say “octante” instead of “huitante”). At this point I also know basic words in Spanish…enough that I can ask if someone wants milk, sugar, chocolate, cinnamon or whipped cream. Point being, the main stumbling block for me isn’t the language itself, but rather the fact that I can’t always figure out which language I need to speak right away. There are some times where I hear a key word or accent that gives it away, but sometimes, if a person just comes up and says “cappuccino” it takes a bit more digging to figure out which language to use.

Of course, the default language is Dutch, but if it becomes obvious that the person doesn’t understand I try English, then French and lastly I may blurt some Spanish, although my manager is Portuguese and one of my coworkers is Mexican, so I rarely have to tread Spanish waters linguistically. But anyway, tonight a guy came up to the register and I thought I heard him say “Cappucino, s’il tu plait.” Granted, that in itself was a bit odd because most francophones don’t use the familiar “tu” with a strange cashier, but rather the formal “vous”. But I figured I better switch over to French, so I asked, “avec du sucre?”

And he looked at me and said “what?”

So I tried again, “with sugar?”

And he continued to look blank so I defaulted back to Dutch, “met suiker?”

To which he shook his head no. So I gave him the total in Dutch, which he paid, saying “alstublieft” as he did. I then told him (still speaking Dutch) that I’d thought he’d said “s’il tu plait” which is why I’d spoken French. He smiled and nodded. Then I asked him in Dutch is he wanted chocolate or cinnamon on the cappuccino.

“Chocolade poeder of kaneel?”

To which he looked at me blankly again and in French said, “Je parle francais.”

“…er…chocolat ou canelle?”

“Oui, oui,” he said and then as I handed him the drink he said, “Merci, bon journee,” and walked away.

And then my head exploded.

But no, seriously, I thought a sprocket or two in my brain must’ve come loose, cause what the hell had that just been??? I turned to my two coworkers who had apparently been doubled over laughing for most of the time and the look on my face just made them laugh even harder. And they totally confirmed that no, I had not lost my mind or had a mild attack of amnesia. The guy had started off in French, then seemed to switch to Dutch and at the end switched back to French.

I’m telling you, the customers, they’re out to get me.

Let’s talk about milk.

Or specifically, how we ran out of milk today (again…but we won’t get into that) and were left with 3 liters of soy milk and 6 liters of skim milk.

And how people here are totally clueless/act really disgusted by the thought of skim milk.

I personally have been drinking skim milk (or half percent, which they don’t have here) for as long as I can remember and find the thought of whole milk pretty disgusting. Mostly for the sheer fat and calorie content, but also because I don’t like to chew my milk, and that’s what drinking whole milk feels like to me. The only time I ever drink whole milk is if I have severe acid indigestion and antacids haven’t worked, and then I have to chug it because I don’t like the texture in my mouth.

Here in Belgium it’s a bit different. In America I’ve seen whole, 2%, 1%, 1/2% and skim milk available in most stores, while here I’ve only ever seen whole milk, half milk (I’m guessing that’s 1%), and skim milk. From what I can tell, most people drink the whole or half milk. I never really thought about why that is, but today I think I got a bit more insight.

When offering skim milk to customers today in lieu of the whole milk I got questions like “Does it still make foam?” (for a capuccino) or “Eew, does that even taste the same?” (for a chai steamer). I’m really not sure why people assume that the fat is the part of the milk that foams. In actuality, skim milk is easier to foam and holds foam longer than whole milk. And as far as taste goes, fat has no taste. Therefore, reducing fat does not change the taste of milk. It definitely changes the texture, but it’s not like regular soda versus diet soda where you can actually taste a difference. Is a drink made with whole milk richer and creamier? Yeah, it is, definitely but the taste itself is not different.

So, what have we learned today?
Well, Americans…you probably haven’t learned much of anything really, but Belgians, just know that when you are visiting a coffee place, it is not a sin to be offered skim milk in place of whole. The foam on your cappuccino will probably be better. Your chai steamer will taste the same. The main difference is that you’ll have 60 extra calories (per 30 dl) that you can fill up with extra mayo at the frietkot.

Muffins are not a Belgian thing.

Neither are brownies.
But we sell both of those things at the coffee kiosk (despite the fact that the company is British and brownies/muffins aren’t British things either), so occasionally I have to explain what a brownie or muffin is.
More often the muffin, since the brownie is slowly creeping onto the shelves in supermarkets.
And sometimes this is a dilemma because terminology here for baked goods is different than in the U.S.

For instance, in America, we have specific names for everything. There are the blanket terms “baked goods” and “pastries” but within those categories there are specifics like cupcakes and pies and brownies and muffins and scones. Or danish and blintzes and croissants and eclairs.

Descriptions here are often much more broad. Pretty much everything baked that isn’t “brood” (bread) or “taart” (cake) is grouped under the category of “koek” (everything else). This includes all pastries, crunchy cookies, wafer cookies, etc.
So, if I’m running to the bakery for pastries? I’m going to get “koffiekoeken.” If I’m describing a brownie then I say “het is een soort zachte chocolade koek” (it’s a sort of soft chocolate “koek”). If I’m looking for cookies I look for “koekjes.” So how exactly does one describe a muffin? It’s not flat or thin or crunchy or made of puff pastry. It’s obviously not bread and it doesn’t fit the Belgian definition of cake which is much softer and creamier than what Americans call cake.

Interestingly enough, Belgians distinguish their own cake (taart) from the spongier version, which they call “cake”. Keeping all of this in mind, can you see how, when someone comes up and asks me if the muffins are “cakeskes” (little cakes), my first instinct is to say no. Because they aren’t cakes, dammit, they’re muffins! Muffins have bits of stuff in them and they’re considered acceptable as breakfast food and they don’t have icing.

But they’re baked and spongy and don’t fit into the bread or taart categories…

So in the end, I give up.

“Ja,” I say, “da’s zo een cakeske.” (Yes, that’s a little cake)