
I empathise with the flat white. We both derive from humble origins, Aussie roots, and european ancestry, and now share parallel homes on either side of the pacific, yet are a little less understood and still somewhat a novelty over on the American side of the pond. I can guarantee without fail, almost every day of my five years working in San Francisco cafes, someone would ask me about the flat white, looking for âthe truthâ out of the mouth of a ârealâ Australian (what a responsibility, I know).
We could go into the history of this iconic beverage, but itâs more interesting to sip on why it's so personally significant to millions of people around the world.Â
Wet cappuccino, flatty, white coffee, aussie latte (yes Iâve got this one before), or simply âcoffeeâ⊠are some names.
As it should have, the flat white has grown up into an international beverage, and interestingly, its name has inflated to the point where each region and each cafe defines the legendary espresso and steamed milk drink to their own standard, from Sydney to Starbucks. I suspect these diasporic differentiations of a two-ingredient menu item exist because of how particular coffee culture can be. Allow me to elaborate:
When youâre working with two main ingredients, espresso and milk, itâs important to have as many variables as you can. This enables an endless amount of modifiers that transform an order into an individualâs identity at their discretion, as well as the no-fuss option of any go-to classic drink if they want to keep their order low-key. The flat white is both custom and conventional.
The best part about extensively-modified orders is their tendency to become ingrained in our explicit memory through repetition of a perceptual event: the daily cafe routine. Repeated popular orders become part of our daily vocabulary, sometimes mentioned in the first conversation of the day, immediately reinforced by a specific smell and taste, and become increasingly inseparable from our routine. The transformation of semantic information, in this case oneâs unique variables of their flat white order, spoken, and sometimes even written down on a takeaway cup, amalgamates into one perceptual meaning: the experience of their custom beverage in its specific smell, taste, feeling, location, time of day etc. The meaning of a certain drink order can be so specific and so certain to someone.
To an outsider, the custom order can be far fetched, outlandish, and downright extra, yet to the person ordering it, itâs essential.
âGood morning, one oat magic please.â
Melbourneâs âmagicâ is one of my favourite epithets. I like to believe it has transcended into its unique title because its nickname is pinpoint-accurate of how the drink makes you feel. A three-quarter, strong (double ristretto) flat white is a cumbersome mouthful (unless youâre in Sydney), and saying the word âmagicâ is imagination-stirring and smile-inducing.
Whatâs funnier than saying âmagicâ is the appropriation of the short and strong espresso and milk drinks around the world. California has two painstakingly similar drinks: the âgibraltarâ and the âcortadoâ, both double-ristretto and equal parts (slightly) steamed milk, the difference mostly being the importance of the vessel that itâs served in.
Quite a few customers apologise with their meticulous modifiers. Please, save your apology. Itâs your baristaâs job to get your order right, especially if itâs your âusualâ.
Although, if you do have an ultra-specific order, you should know the nature of what youâre ordering. For example, alternative milks texture differently, an iced flat white doesnât exist (the difference between a flat white and a latte is the texture of the steamed milk, and typical iced drinks donât use hot/steamed milk, simply cold milk), and artificial sweeteners can be utterly awful for you.
Now that our beloved flatty has transcended into an omni-satisfying espresso and milk drink for the world to imbibe, we can hopefully have a break from consoling the stressed-out pedantics of the specificities of the beverage, and instead of arguing its origins, enjoy the flat whites that are good (from your trusted local), and dismiss the flat whites that are bad (Starbucksâ appropriation with added artificial sweeteners).
Even the most esteemed coffee people drink flat whites, because milk and coffee were a match made in heaven. A few years back I shared a video call with Michal MolÄan, editor in chief of Standart Magazine. We both (at first sheepishly) admitted to the espresso and milk drink being our first coffee of choice after waking up. I was relieved that he also admitted to drinking the drink, even if itâs not a purist single origin black coffee.Â
We can now say that the flat white is more than just a damn good drink: itâs evolved into a mnemonic device of oneâs identity. Iâve come to the realisation that loving the flat white is not something to be ashamed of. Itâs actually respectable to stand by what you love, and that every drink, no matter how ordinary, is interesting.