Cafe Martinez

[Recoleta- Buenos Aires, Argentina]

there’s a little cafe two blocks from my apartment.  the kind manager is patient as i fumble my way through the menu.  mostly, i come for whole beans... ground beans rather.   though ground beans sound somehow less romantic, that’s what i order so long the grinder remains in cardboard captivity north of the equator. 

¿como se dice, “coarse, espresso, auto-drip?”

i’d like to tell you this is a “niche-cafe” which cannot be found anywhere other than Avenida Pueyrrdón; but the truth is that Cafe Martinez is the Starbucks of urban Argentina.  the appeal?  for one, you cannot order “para llevar,” which means, if you’d like a cafe con leche, you must have a seat and be served. 

there is much emphasis on servitude nowadays (which i do not intend to belittle) although it is a delight to be served. and to take the time to relish this gift.  recognize the moments you are served.. see if you notice shift in affect, a certain lightness of face.

it is protocol, throughout Argentina that coffee is accompanied by a trio of bite-sized cookies and a glass of mineral water.  three of my favorite luxuries.  cookies, coffee, mineral water.  mmm.  

the last but foremost reason i’m drawn to this cafe is its name.  it appeals to my ego, who could resist?  

for these reasons, i find an excuse to announce each time we pass its sign.  i even called my brother, a fellow coffee aficionado to inform him we may be distantly related to a coffee emperor-- as if we needed to further justify our petty indulgence.  

this will not end with how to find God in a coffee shop.  it’s much too easy to find God in the midst of luxury with a mild stimulant and soft jazz.

instead i’d like to remember a theme which has (repeatedly) tossed a humble pie in my face over the last eight months. the creme filling seems to explode each time i lose sight of the fact my best disguise still looks like a circus clown.  it manifests itself in the form of a found note, dear friend, good book, a new favorite cafe on which i like to gloat.  

the last lines of text in the image above says “What we praise signifies our treasure.  Let love for God’s word fall from our mouths and drip from our lives.”  drip from our lives.  drip from our lives.  let love for God’s word so saturate our lives that we no longer let art, adventures, cafes be the center of our praise. of our conversation.  instead each time we pass a sign of the Lord’s goodness, announce it.  call your brother.  let him know that you are a child of the emperor of goodness, the artisan of life, and the author of love.