Tonkatsu and Shakerato – Too Tempting to Savor Slowly
Western-style pork cutlet and shakerato are impossible to eat slowly. Before you know it, you've come to your senses with nothing left but a plate smeared with a bit of sauce. Regretfully, you scrape the bottom with your fork. Should I order another? My stomach still has plenty of room... No, no. This is just right. Considering the portion of the cutlet, the other meals here must be hearty too. Better to go for coffee and dessert instead. Or just coffee and grab a light snack somewhere else. For now, I'll sip the coffee I ordered and think it over.
"Excuse me, one shakerato, please."
"Coming right up."
As soon as I signal the end of my meal, the chameleon beastkin whips up an espresso. He packs the shaker with ice, adds syrup, then pours in the freshly extracted espresso without a fuss. What follows is vigorous shaking. His movements radiate passion and expertise, belying his sullen expression. After about twenty seconds, he sets down the shaker and grabs a small strainer. He places it over the glass and pours—the shakerato is complete.
"Your shakerato."
"Oh ho..."
Shakerato. I've heard the name but never tried it. They say it's like iced coffee. Thanks to the shaking, there's a generous layer of white foam—maybe a 3:7 ratio? It's different from the whipped cream on top of other drinks. Yeah. Like beer. Stout, but in coffee form. Will this foam be as smooth and velvety?
"...Mm."
It's refreshing. But not like the iced coffee we're used to. This is... leisurely. More for savoring than gulping down in the heat. The foam is soft, infused with coffee aroma, sweet from the syrup. The air itself is neutral, but that foam—why is it so delicious? The coffee flavor is mild, but the sweetness is prominent, probably from the syrup.
"Hooah."
A chilled shakerato isn't like force-feeding yourself an energy drink when you're exhausted. Unlike those that wring every last drop of energy from your body or iced coffee chugged for a quick caffeine hit amid a hectic day, this is pure relaxation. The coolness soothes overheated nerves, the soft foam lubricates the creaky joints. And yet, the caffeine's awakening effect remains intact. My mind clears—not the desperate grip on consciousness when fatigued, but something gentler...
Yeah. Like waking groggily to birdsong and sunlight filtering through the window, glancing at the clock in mild panic, then remembering with relief it's your day off. That sudden clarity.
Who knows. It might not be the perfect analogy. But right now, that's exactly how it feels.
"Mm..."
...Even trying to take it slow, the glass empties too fast. I blink, and the bottom's staring back at me. It was a small serving to begin with, but did someone steal it? No helping it. In that case—
"One more shakerato, please."
"You must like it."
"I do."
The chameleon's mouth twitches upward. Indeed. He looks grumpy on the surface, but he's proud of his coffee. That's how he brews something this good. He shakes it with the same curt efficiency, but the motions feel a touch softer now. Funny. I thought it was precise before, but now that I've tasted it, it looks even more artistic.
Another shakerato. This one's different beans from the last.
"Mm!"
I don't usually go for coffees with strong acidity. Maybe I'm too used to the sweetness of instant mixes. This one's noticeably more tart than the first—overwhelming for my unaccustomed palate. But delicious! The tongue-tingling sourness, nutty aroma, creamy foam, and sweet syrup harmonize so perfectly I can't hold back my admiration! If I'd lost a bit more restraint, I might've stood and applauded. Hats off to the maestro barista who conducts this orchestra with just coffee, ice, and syrup!
I don't love sour notes, but this? I could drink it all day.
"No wonder the food's great—the caffeine's the real star. Meals are excellent, but coffee this good would wake up even non-coffee drinkers."
"...You're too kind. Even flattery's appreciated."
The chameleon's face flushes—his skin color gives away his feelings despite the stoic expression. No flattery. Just moments ago, I was moping over not having more cutlet; now my eyes sparkle as I rave about this coffee with my limited expertise. Of course, I don't blurt out every thought unfiltered...
Though, ten years ago, I might've forgotten all dignity and spouted a garbled ode full of pseudo-poetic nonsense. They say good food moves you, but coffee doing this? First time.
We chat lightly for a bit before I step outside. Time to head back to the office. What a fun place. Gotta come again...
"...Ha. Doing great business, huh."
My view widens. From fixating on details, the bigger picture emerges. The rotating wall seemed novel before, but now I see it's optimal for flow—minimizing wasted steps. A huge display case elsewhere would've meant seven extra paces. Standing in one spot to maximize tasks, with the rotating wall as the finishing touch.
The interior details too. Sitting at the counter now, but from a window seat? Solo diners seek openness in enclosed spaces—window spots, back to the wall for a broad view. That's when you spot the charcoal and coal posters on the opposite wall. Bold "Charcoal" and "Coal" headers pique interest, but tiny text below leaves you guessing. Curiosity draws you up for a closer look, passing the counter en route. The rich coffee aroma hits. Turn toward the scent, and there—liquor and coffee. The odd pairing stuns you, then the aroma infiltrates your brain. I want coffee. I want coffee...
"Perfect flow."
Plenty more thoughtful touches. Those tiles—ivory and white checks dotted with glaring blue ones. Your eye lingers, and bam, the shakerato poster next to it catches you. Closing my eyes, the layout etches deeper. To leave such a vivid impression after one visit? This owner's too talented for just running a cafe.
I deal with interdimensional trades, but few sweat these details. Fewer execute them perfectly. Found a gem. Regular material.
"Phew... One crisis averted. What the hell's with this boss and his weird obsessions...!"
"Hm?"
Stepping onto the street satisfied, a familiar voice drifts over. Not intimate, but recognized. I turn—the client rep from today's meeting. His face twists in a scowl he hid earlier, fidgeting irritably with his tie, wiping sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.
"At least the team's solid. Boss has a knack for people."
He grumbles, sighing deeply, his expression a mix of relief and unease—half glad to dodge another bullet, half wondering if he'll quit next time.
"Anyway, crisis over—time for a victory drink. Yeah, since I'm here, that place after so long..."
The rep approaches. I duck into the crowd to watch discreetly. He's too drained, staring at the ground, and misses me. He enters the alley I just left.
"Stress relief's always here."
...Ah. Same type as me. Food for stress. No wonder we clicked.
"Boss! Long time! The usual!"
His sour face vanishes, beaming as he enters. Regular, huh. Makes sense—memorable from the first visit, top-tier food and coffee. Bound to hook regulars.
"A devilish cafe. Even he."
Frankly, his boss could learn from this place. Before chasing cash loses all his talent.