Home sweet home
Slow down.
I'm back from a week-long trip to Wyoming for work. These trips are fun and I'm so lucky I get to do them, but they're also seriously draining. They typically involve extremely early call times and super long hours. And it's a marathon. Selfishly, I also dread the coffee situation in these trips as we typically end up in small towns with old school mom and pop cafes.
Jackson isn't such a place. To say it's a wealthy town is an understatement. There were quite a few good options for coffee, but as always, the drinks were highly dependent on the barista on duty. I had one pretty good morning flat white at Snake River Roasting Company, but every other time I stopped by was pretty bad. At one visit, I was served coffee so hot, I couldn't even hold the glass (and they were using notNeutral Vero cups, which I love but they are NOT meant to hold overly hot drinks like that).
I also had high hopes for another cafe called Persephone Bakery, but I also got served a pretty burnt cup of coffee there. I don't necessarily think it's their fault. Americans looove their coffee piping hot, to their own detriment. I do think these two cafes were serving interesting roasts judging by the bags they were selling, but sadly, I didn't really get to experience them fully because of how burnt they served them.
So, I was extremely happy to get back to my own house and my own espresso machine to make my own flat whites exactly as I like them—perfect drinkable temp.
My friend texted me this recently, "I'm about to have the worst cup of coffee of my life." And then a few moments later, "Yup. Smells like burnt nuts." I was lamenting to the same friend about a recent visit to a cafe I used to love and how it's pretty easy to predict whether or not your coffee is going to be good based on the barista's demeanor. In Los Angeles, where both bad coffee incidents took place, this is a pretty common sight especially during the very busy morning rush. You'll see baristas, especially new hires, in a panicked state doing the best they can.
Art's not the best, but they were delicious, which is the most important thing
Real, good coffee prepared with thought and care just isn't meant for this world of go, go, go. When I make Bobby's and my coffee drinks in the morning, I take my sweet ass time. That's just not a luxury that service workers in the US, who also rely heavily on tips, can afford to do. It's such a shame.
It made me realize that if I ever do open up my own cafe, I would want it to be slow. But then it also wouldn't make any money. So I guess I'm not doing that.
Online communities
Once online, always online.
For as long as I’ve had access to a computer, I’ve been an active member of very specific online communities. As a teenager, I made fan sites for my favorite singers at the time — Celine Dion and Mariah Carey — and was beyond stoked to be part of what we called “webrings.” I was so excited (and honestly, kind of honored?) to paste the code into my site and click “next” or “previous” to make sure it worked properly.
In high school, I started a LiveJournal where I met so many cool people — some of whom I’m still in touch with today. That was during my transition from pop divas to emo and punk bands. I was quoting Dashboard Confessional and making photo collages. I had my first camera at that point and took plenty of silly pictures. A couple of years ago, I was able to download all of them from Photobucket before they wiped them out permanently.
Then came college, and somehow I ended up on Tumblr. By then, I was getting more serious about photography, reading voraciously, and developing a more “adult” taste in pop culture. That’s when I became obsessed with Sufjan Stevens, Fleet Foxes, Dave Eggers, Kurt Vonnegut, The Godfather — things I still consider foundational to my artistic sensibility and creative practice. Even now, I turn to them for inspiration or comfort.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. I used to believe my relationship with the internet was a byproduct of growing up in a rural town — isolated from my friends and with little sense of community outside my family. But now that I live in a city, I still find myself turning to the internet for connection. Part of it is living far away from my longtime friends. Part of it just feels natural. I wonder if other millennials who grew up with the early internet feel the same way.
These days, I spend a lot of time on Reddit — mostly in threads about coffee, books, and travel. It feels familiar, but also different. I’m so aware of how much older I am now, moving through a space I’ve inhabited since I was a kid. The internet itself has changed so much. Content is shorter. I can’t even really find blogs anymore — at least not the kind I used to love. Most of them now are cluttered with ads and affiliate links, not the personal, thoughtful corners they once were.
It leaves me feeling too lazy to sit down and write my own thoughts sometimes. It just feels pointless now and then. But I try to remind myself why I had a LiveJournal or Tumblr all those years ago — I just needed a space of my own. And having that, even now in my 30s, no matter how crowded or chaotic the online world feels, still feels pretty good. And for me, that’s enough.
Cameras and coffee
People in Sacramento are nice.
When we moved permanently to Sacramento over two years ago, one of the first things I did was look for local photography clubs to check out. There are quite a few active ones here, which was nice. But any female photographer would tell you, there's a fear of showing to photography meets to find dozens of men simultaneously shooting one woman in her underwear. I don't know why these meets always lean towards boudoir photography, but I have some guesses.
So that fear along with my erratic schedule meant being unable to attend any meetups until today. I found Cameras and Coffee 916 on social media, and I thought, "Wow, two of my favorite things in the world!" I also liked that the community seemed way more diverse than the others. The group meets up once a month in different local coffee shops and then do photo walks together in the city. Such a great, simple premise for a community.
Today, the group ended up at Cosumnes River Preserve, a nature preserve just south of Sacramento, with lots of wildlife and gorgeous wetland scenes. My schedule finally lined up and I got to go. I brought a bunch of Peak Design products with me as well to give away, because one of my side goals at my job is to stay connected with the photography community and hook up as many photographers as I can with our gear. Although half the attendees were already sporting our straps, which was pretty cool.
I've been a professional photographer for over 12 years at this point, and it's so rare for me to take pictures outside of any professional capacity. Even when I take photos in my own time, it's out of a desire to pursue "personal projects". I think I love our travels and even just our random walks so much because I can just take a photo and not think too deeply about it. I also really enjoy nerding out over gear with people who are just as obsessed as I am.
The whole experience reinforced my opinion that people in Sacramento are just so goddamn nice. Bobby and I talk about this pretty often, especially when we compare it to our experiences living in Los Angeles. People here say hi and genuinely want to chat. And it doesn't feel fake. I can't stand small talk, but I think I especially hate it when I know the person I'm small talking with is only doing it out of obligation and not out of real interest. I haven't felt that in a long time since moving here.
I'm kind of repeating some LA cliches here, but ultimately, I think it's just not an easy city to live in for a person who's in between an introvert and extrovert (aka me). Sacramento, on the other hand, gives me the space I need to be myself. Interactions don't feel overwhelming. In fact, they feel pleasant most of the time. I just don't get stressed in social situations here because I don't feel the pressure to be anything other than myself.
Major upgrade
I've been waiting for this day.
My new machine has arrived! And it is so much prettier and heftier than I imagined. This thing is an absolute beast.
Today is Bobby's 40th birthday. It's also the day I officially received my new espresso machine. All the way from Florence, Italy where it was painstakingly made. I ordered this machine over a month ago, and I was prepared to wait much longer than I did. I was also nervous about being faced with the fact that my latte art struggles had nothing to do with my inferior machine and everything to do with me. So as soon as I finished setting up, I went on to pull my first double shot and steamed some milk for a flat white, served in a 6oz La Marzocco cup, and wow...
Delicious flat white made with Ethiopian beans from Enderly Coffee and my new machine I call "Elaine".
I poured my best textured and wiggled latte art yet. The milk was perfectly steamed in like 10 seconds, compared to almost a minute with my Breville. I'm blown away. I dramatically told Bobby that my life is forever changed today.
The walk and talk
It's gorgeous outside.
Bobby and I do weekly check-ins with each other, and sometimes we do it in the form of a "walk and talk". This is where we'd go on a 1-2 mile walk around our neighborhood on a Saturday, checking out the houses and the wildflowers in bloom. The weather in Sacramento has been absolutely perfect this past week, which is sadly often short-lived. Soon, it will be hotter than hell.
How these check-ins go depends on what's going on in our lives. Sometimes, I'll spend my entire part of it talking about work and whatever may be stressing me out. Sometimes, I don't have anything to say other than the fact that I'm doing fine. It made me think recently about my 20's in Los Angeles. Having all my friends there and practically none here in Sacramento is quite a contrast to how my free days have been these days.
In Los Angeles, my friends and I liked to "walk and talk," as well as "sit and talk," and definitely "drive and talk". We were watching the latest season of Black Mirror and the episode "Eulogy" had a lot of scenes examining the main character's younger self situated in house parties.
"Aw," I said. "I'm kinda sad that part of my life is over."
"Yeah, it was fun," Bobby said.
On Tuesday, Bobby turns 40. So I'm thinking about aging and youth a lot these days.
Then I started to think about what has replaced house parties and afternoons in cafes for me. I enjoy spending time with our little nieces and nephews, which we luckily get to do a lot now that we live here. I also love the opportunities we get to hang out with Bridget, Bobby's mom. And then of course, there's my life in San Francisco when I'm working that feels like a totally separate thing and I'm enjoying the community I have there as well.
I guess there will always be some melancholy involved when thinking about "the old days". But I also remember the struggles of my 20's like being broke, feeling hopeless in weird relationships, and lacking self-confidence in my career. I wouldn't want to relive any of it.
There's a weird sort of freedom that I gained once I turned 30, which prompted so many big changes in my life. I just woke up and realized I was in control of my own life. Wow. I don't do anything that I don't want to anymore. And I'm very precious with my time and how I spend it. I could definitely be on my phone less though. Working on that.
"I just don't feel like I need to prove myself to anyone anymore," I told Bobby during yesterday's walk. "Now I want to get other things in my life in order."
Something clicked
Edit: Wiggles!
I'm editing this post complaining about how I kept doing tulips and no wiggles, because yesterday, I finally achieved a real wiggled base in an 8oz cup. This has become my ideal cup size these last couple weeks. It gives me a good amount of canvas to practice with. I'll switch back to exclusively 6oz drinks, which is my preferred cup size for my flat whites, once I feel more confident with my pours.
Two days in a row of wiggled bases!
My tulips are pretty good now. I can stack a good amount of layers depending on the cup size and my milk consistency. I have to admit, morale is pretty high. I haven't painted a formless blob in weeks and that feels really damn good after consistent daily pouring. Practice does help! Once my confidence on wiggling is up, I'll attempt even more wiggles beyond just the base.
Tulips, tulips, tulips. Cup sizes, from left to right: 6oz, 10oz, 12oz.
Finding Bach
Bobby tells me Bach is the best.
This idea for this trip came about during our winter break in 2023, which we spent mostly in Austria. By coincidence, the cities we went to were places the composer Mozart had spent time in so we went along with it and went to every Mozart house and museum that were around. Even our day trip to a small village called St. Gilgen, by mere coincidence, had some connection to Mozart. Though he never visited, his mother was born there and his sister moved there as well. We liked this accidental theme that we ended up with, so we decided, what if we did the same next year?
Johann Sebastian Bach was an obvious choice. I knew absolutely nothing about classical music before I met Bobby, and even now, I probably know 5% of all there is to know about it. Bobby tells me Bach is the best. And I’m inclined to believe him because he knows his shit. He would want to explain why and he’s very good at it (he’s a great and engaging teacher, in general), but as I’ve established, I don’t know nearly as much as he does so I’m not going to try. You probably know more than I do!
As we started planning this Bach pilgrimage, we asked Bridget, Bobby’s mom, to come with us. As the last childless couple in the family, we’ve traveled and hung out with Bridget a lot in the last few years and we enjoy the hell out of it. She’s kind of a “down for whatever” type of gal. She’s also really active and in fact LOVES to get physical and active in trips. So she’s kind of a perfect travel companion for us. So once our trio had settled on our dates, I got down to researching. I shamelessly looked up all the existing and expensive Bach tours, of which there are many. I started mapping it out in our shared travel note:
We gave ourselves almost two weeks to get through this itinerary, which began by flying right before Christmas eve to Frankfurt. This was not a good move and I highly discourage this. The initial logic behind this was to catch the last of the Christmas markets. But I failed to learn in my research that they close on Christmas eve and Christmas day. Not only that, almost every shop, restaurant, and cafe were also closed. So that first night at Frankfurt was pretty uneventful, except for that excellent cup of coffee at at The Espresso Bar, a no nonsense little shop where people come in, put in their order, sip their coffee, and then get on with their day.
We continued on to Eisenach, a medieval town in central Germany where Bach was born. It was a little over two hours of driving from the center of Frankfurt, right on the autobahn, for which we had built up some anxiety/fear due to the myth around it. But it was actually perfectly fine. Just a fine example of German efficiency, in fact. It made us wish drivers back home were as good.
We drove by the town sign and had to circle back. That typeface!
Reaching the gorgeous town sign really set the mood of this stop for us. We stayed at a beautiful hotel on the top of the hill called Berghotel Eisenach. In pictures, this property looks so green and magical. In the wintertime, it's perfectly misty, dark, and wet. We walked down the hill to the town center a couple times, which was a nice workout for all of us with all the hills and steps. But for dinner and an evening show at the Bachhaus, we opted to do the short drive down the hill instead.
Most things in the town square has some sort of nod to Bach, from the Bach Restaurant to the Bach graffiti. The main attraction, however, is the Bachhaus. Johann Sebastian Bach was born here on March 21, 1685. This is the house where he spent the first ten years of his life and learned about music. Presently, it serves as a museum that also hosts concerts with musicians playing Baroque-era keyboard instruments. We were lucky to attend a concert the day after Christmas.
It's really fun to explore a town that has preserved its history so well, from the architecture to the typefaces used. It feels like what theme parks aim to give its visitors—a truly immersive experience where you can almost imagine what it was like back in the day when Bach's family roamed those streets. Or maybe I'm being too dramatic about this. I just love old medieval towns.
I didn't have luck finding coffee I like here, but that's not Eisenach's fault. However, during our stop at Arnstadt on the way to Weimar, I got an incredible cup of coffee from Bohnenstolz, as well as a bag of light roast beans that I enjoyed very much at home. This little town is where Bachkirche is located. The Protestant church is where Bach first got hired as an organist at the age of 18.
Bohnenstolz is a must-visit in Arnstadt for high quality specialty coffee.
After that little stop where Bobby got to practice his German, we continued on to Weimar, which is now one of my favorite cities in Europe. Bach lived here for a long time, but the main reason we stayed here for three days is because of the Bauhaus Museum. If I were to rank my favorite design movements, I would rank Bauhaus as number one, followed by Impressionism and Arts and Crafts. (Memphis is an honorable mention, but honestly Corporate Memphis really tired me of it.) Bobby and I have spent the last couple years decorating our home in a very Bauhaus-inspired manner, and I was excited to see some of the original furniture in person, especially the cradle by Peter Keler.
Snippets of Weimar.
Our final Bach stop of this long trip was Leipzig, where Bach spent the last years of his life as the musical director of the Thomanerchor or St. Thomas Choir of Leipzig. St. Thomas Church is also where Bach is buried and if there's no mass or concert going on, you can walk in, pay three euros (if I'm remembering this correctly), and see it for yourself. There's also a small exhibit of Bach-related things like sheet music and manuscripts.
St. Thomas Church, Bach's final resting place
We very fortunately got to attend the Thomanerchor's new year's eve concert, which we all agreed was a once in a lifetime experience. If angels were real, they would sound like those boys. It's hard to fathom what it must've been like back in Bach's day, attending mass in this church and hearing all this beautiful music for the first time. Once the concert was over, the boys' choir went outside to Bach's monument and performed a few songs for the crowd who weren't able to come inside.
The concert was such a nice way to end our Bach pilgrimage. It got me thinking about all the other people we're inspired by that we want to plan trips around. Bobby suggested Claude Debussy and Maurice Ravel. He also has a few Russian composers he loves like Igor Stravinsky, Sergei Prokofiev, and Dmitri Shostakovich. But... y'know. I mentioned Henri Matisse and maybe a deeper dive into Claude Monet's life.
I'd personally love to do a trip centered around Greek mythology next.
Anyway, after all this talk, we just looked at each other and acknowledged just how insanely privileged we both are to be able to see the world in this way. To be able to travel at all. And I really feel fortunate to be with someone who would walk around a medieval town for hours with me.
Matcha
I've never had or made one before, but I wanted to try.
I have a weird bias against tea for no reason other than I didn't grow up drinking it. On the other hand, Bobby loves all kinds of tea, including matcha. One of the reasons I got so deep into latte art is because of my desire to throw a coffee shop party at my house (it's where we pretend we're a cafe, except everything's free for our friends and family). I thought about my friends who don't really like coffee, but like tea. I need to have something on the menu for them.
Enter matcha. Armed with some high quality matcha powder and a whisking set, I made my first matcha latte for Bobby. Coincidentally, it was also St. Patrick's Day.
I take every opportunity to drink out of this gorgeous vessel by Ginny Sims. It brings so much joy.
The whisking part was surprisingly tough on my arms. Once I saw the promising froth, I steamed some milk and poured. I served it nervously to Bobby who responded with, "Perfect. Right on the money." Hell yeah. I took a sip as well and I actually quite liked it. Maybe I'll start drinking matcha.