I heap up the fair trade coffee into the little basket, jiggle the basket into the machine, press the button, and wait for the perfect cup of espresso to drip out. I am a volunteer barista in a community arts café, The Carrot, in the ‘hood where I grew up 50 years ago. Then it was eastern European working –class; now it’s multicultural inner city. Ethiopian restaurant down the block, Serbian butcher on the corner, Portuguese bakery at the other corner. You want foam on your latte? That’s not Italian. Go to the coffee chain uptown.
