I am back – Chapter 73

“You don’t have to force yourself to drink it.”

When I grimaced at the coffee, my older sister laughed and said,

“If it’s too bitter, you can add syrup… there’s sugar here too. Or there’s caramel sauce and drizzle.”

Although it’s basically a bakery, my sister had a strong interest in coffee, so there were many coffee-related items around. Of course, many of the coffees she brewed for me were not even on the menu yet. As my sister said, some of those coffees had more sweetness than coffee taste. There were drinks loaded with syrup that turned Americano or espresso’s characteristic dark color into a light brown.

“But that’s a bit…”

I hesitated a little before speaking.

Of course, it tasted good. Adding sweetened condensed milk or pouring much more milk than coffee to neutralize the bitterness wasn’t bad. Just like cocoa can be bitter, but if you mix in milk and sugar, it turns delicious like chocolate, bitter coffee turns into a completely different taste when you add a generous amount of syrup.

However, I couldn’t help but think that mixing this and that made it necessarily closer to instant coffee than actual coffee. In reality, it was often much more than just a packet of instant coffee.

How should I put it? I felt like I couldn’t fully enjoy coffee itself.

No, I can firmly say that thought was wrong. I still didn’t know how to enjoy coffee a hundred percent. If I concentrated hard enough, I could barely catch a whiff of the coffee aroma, but that didn’t mean I knew how to fully enjoy the unique taste of bitter and refreshing coffee.

Perhaps that was why I—

“Because you’re not mature enough?”

My sister said with a smile. The way her eyes curved and the subtle lift of her lips was so pretty that it could leave anyone in a daze.

“Uh, no, that’s not it…”

Well, to be honest, I did think that. I felt like I seemed immature.

As a child, I used to somewhat idolize those adults.

Drinking bitter coffee without a care, chugging alcohol, and saying “Ahh!” But coffee was one thing; I couldn’t drink alcohol at all. In Irrelaysia, I had a few times when I was treated to fairly expensive liquor in taverns, but I struggled hard each time to pretend it was tasty.

At least, liquor was a drink where no one criticized you for grimacing.

Tea was the same. Kalia, who came from a high social class, and Dana, who researched all night, both easily drank strong tea without adding anything. Arna wasn’t from a culture accustomed to tea, but she quickly adapted as an elf who often drank bitter beverages made from various plants.

Pia was the same. She brewed her tea much lighter than Kalia and Dana, but she enjoyed experiencing the original aroma of the tea quite a bit. Since sugar was a luxury and a strategic supply in Irrelaysia, imagining adding heaps of sugar to tea was almost unthinkable.

Well, tea itself was an expensive item. The reason Pia drank her tea weak was that she was used to it that way since childhood. It was said that she could enjoy tea because she grew up in a church.

On the other hand, I… While I managed to adapt enough to taste the aroma of tea like how Pia drank it, honestly, plain cold water was the best for me. Or sweetened drinks made with juice.

Maybe it was because I couldn’t drink well that I felt a bit envious of those who could casually enjoy such sophisticated drinks. How should I put it? I felt like I was the only one stuck in place.

I guess that’s why I kept trying to drink coffee without adding anything. I wanted to be an adult, like those I thought were cool when I was younger.

In reality, I was old enough to be called an adult in my eyes. In Irrelaysia, I was somewhat of a veteran too.

“Um.”

But because of that, I was too embarrassed to respond. Even after aging, I still couldn’t fully enjoy the drinks that adults relished.

My sister looked at me for a moment and then said,

“This.”

She pointed at the espresso machine in the shop with her hand.

“Do you know where espresso started?”

“Uh… Italy?”

I answered a bit uncertainly. I had heard of it before. I wasn’t someone who absolutely loved coffee or had the passion to track down its origins, but I remembered reading somewhere that Italians didn’t like to dilute their espresso.

So, wouldn’t it be Italy?

My sister nodded with a smile.

“Correct. Espresso is Italian. Then why was this machine invented?”

“Uh, um…”

I stared intently at the machine for a moment. The reason for using a machine to extract coffee instead of manually could only be… could there be more than one?

“To make it easier?”

“Yep, that’s right.”

My sister nodded.

“Conveniently and quickly. To serve a cup to people waiting in line for coffee in the morning as fast as possible.”

As she quietly observed the machine, she turned to me.

“But, ultimately, espresso made with an espresso machine is different from drip coffee made by hand. Generally, espresso is stronger. The special characteristics of espresso extracted under high temperature and pressure mean using different beans than those used for drip coffee, grinding them differently, and roasting them differently. So the idea of ‘wanting to brew coffee quickly’ ended up creating completely different coffee.”

So that’s why my sister bought additional supplies for drip coffee.

“Drip coffee is the same. It evolved from using filters to strain the grounds of Turkish coffee, eventually making it easier with a funnel. Coffee presses came about for similar reasons. The idea of wanting to drink more conveniently created different coffee.”

My sister shrugged and added,

“And there are methods like cold brew as well. In truth, among the coffee we see at nearby cafés, it’s almost nonexistent to find the original Turkish coffee, right? That doesn’t mean anyone dismisses it by saying, ‘This coffee isn’t the original!’ So just enjoy it as you like. After all, it’s all on the café menu.”

“……”

Is it really like that?

When I tilted my head in confusion, my sister laughed again.

“Yep. Moreover, you already know how to sense the coffee aroma. So why not slowly enjoy other things and think about why people enjoy this bitter coffee with nothing in it?”

I paused to think for a moment and nodded in agreement with my sister’s words.

“Sure, I’ll do that.”

Well, still, I wasn’t completely unable to drink coffee. Even if I grimaced every time, I could manage to finish an Americano, and if there were sweet desserts, it became much easier to drink.

I could somewhat understand why people described coffee’s aftertaste as ‘clean…’

As my sister said, it might be a good method to not rush but gradually adapt.

…Honestly, more than just wanting to like coffee, I had the desire to lessen my sister’s burden a bit while working in this bakery. The time to brew coffee was fixed, but my sister was the only one who knew how to brew coffee properly here.

If I could learn to brew it too, it would be much more comfortable for her.

And since I was brewing it anyway, I didn’t want to just mimic without knowing anything; I wanted to know why that delicious coffee tasted so good.

Thinking that, I took another sip of the coffee in my hand.

My expression scrunched up again.

…Hmm, it seems like it will take some time to completely understand the feeling of drinking coffee. It was still bitter. Of course, it wasn’t at the point I couldn’t drink it, but honestly, it still didn’t quite fit my palate enough to want to buy.

“Want some syrup?”

My sister laughed at my expression and said that.

“……”

Though I had just listened to her explanation, I still couldn’t help feeling embarrassed.

It was like being a young child making a fuss over the side dishes at the table.

But then again, thinking about it, I hadn’t really complained, so maybe it was more like I was a child who wanted to appear mature while being unable to handle spicy or fermented foods.

…No matter how I looked at it, it was an embarrassing choice.

“……Yeah, I think it might be better to add a little.”

In the end, I answered like that.

My sister laughed once more at my response.