Couple of things: (1) Don’t just nod when someone tells you something it’s a bad look. Now, when I said, “We do traditional macchiatos here,” you nodded as if you understood what I was talking about. It is not-and I can’t stress this enough-good. In terms of taste, texture, and consistency, think: peas. In fact, the only milk we’re currently offering is pea milk. We don’t do substitutions, we don’t do flavors or syrups, and we definitely don’t do milk that isn’t first aggressively wrung from the dry shell of a forest nut, squeezed from a legume, or coaxed out of a sprout. Moreover, unlike Starbucks, our macchiato is served exclusively in a thimble-sized ceramic mug that you’d only ever find in one of two places: that cabinet at your grandma’s house inexplicably dedicated to collecting tiny ceramic things, and here, in your charming local coffeehouse-bistro-café-drip-bar. We keep “house” in our name to pay homage to our roots, and we keep that individual locked in a glass cage in the basement. We only managed to nab this place off the market after the individual living here could no longer afford rent and was unceremoniously evicted. This actually used to be somebody’s house before the neighborhood was gentrified. We’re not a coffee company, or a coffee roaster, or, god forbid, a coffee shop-we’re a coffeehouse. We don’t offer tall, grande, or venti sizes-or whatever they serve over there. We don’t have a drive-thru, we don’t have Wi-Fi, and we don’t have a passing grade from the health department. Let me be clear: we don’t have any kind of direct relational correlation with Starbucks (as in, there isn’t one on our block). We’re not even remotely Starbucks-adjacent-or Starbucks-perpendicular, for that matter. Nobody likes it, and the only people who ever order it are those who-like yourself, I have no shred of doubt-wandered in by mistake, expecting us to cater to their every frivolous coffee-related demand and their pedestrian understanding of alternative milks. We make them with an espresso that’s almost confrontationally bitter, offset by just a church kiss of steamed milk on top. The caramel-drizzled, oat-milk-imbued, hyper-customized Starbucks brand of macchiato? Yeah, I’m sure you know that kind. The macchiatos listed on our menu are not the sort you’re expecting. Based on your JanSport backpack, I can tell that you have a child’s understanding of what coffee is. Right off the bat, I’m going to advise you not to order the macchiato. It’s not for me, but you look like you might like it. We’re serving a special coconut-infused matcha latte today. Hello! Welcome to the Lyon Street Coffeehouse and Drip-Bar.
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