Coffee is Melbourne’s lifeline. It’s the pulse of the urban circulatory system, the blood that runs through the veins of the laneways and alleys, fuelling the city with its flavour and vigour. The rich nectar nourishes the city’s inhabitants, the organs of the beating metropolis, haloing them in caffeinated cosiness as it pours steadily from the café’s that line the streets. Inside these cafes lies the heart of Melbourne’s coffee, the baristas. At the centre of this vigorous, municipal system, from the arteries of their espresso machines, pours the dark, piping liquid on which the city depends.
Begin to dissect this heart by uncovering the stories and revealing the reflections of Melbourne’s barista’s, and it becomes apparent that they are just as remarkable and diverse as the coffee they serve. Their tales and musings are intriguing; sometimes funny, sometimes inspiring, and always flowing with as much flavour and energy as the coffee itself.
The baristas of Melbourne seem quick to laugh, and Paige Clark, barista at League of Honest Coffee, is no exception. Long, braided hair, and a wide smile that she flashes freely, she perches on a stool atop the espresso spill of the timber floor, legs dangling. “I’d want to be a cappuccino” she says instantly, when
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He’s tall, with a sandy coloured beard that embellishes a defined jaw and light, watchful eyes. There’s a relaxed air about him, in his looping walk and the fluid motion in which he pulls a chair toward the table. “I think if I was a coffee I’d be a cold brew,” he says, in a calm voice that adds to his placid ambience. “Just cause I’m usually pretty chilled but I still have an effect.” He looks a little surprised with himself. “That was a good answer!”
He and Dave get along well, bouncing off one another with playful energy, a double shot latte, their stories pouring together into the frothy milk of the