Simonelli

If I buy it, it will be the most that I have ever spent on coffee equipment in a single purchase. The machine looks industrial. But, I like industrial. I like straight lines, minimalist looks, as little fluff as possible. There’s also the name of the company that manufactures it; Nuova Simonelli. Who can resist an espresso slowly dripping out of a machine called See-moh-neh-lee? It occurs to me as I write this, that one of my sons has Simeon among his many names. Go figure. Further confirmation that my possession of it was written in the stars.

I have not sought a second opinion on this. It is one of those times when one does not trust that one’s confidence in a decision would be able to stand up to scrutiny. Being jittery, the instinct is to steam forward and give no opportunity to questioning. I am relying only on the expert wisdom of a new barista friend. The only chink in that armour is that as the person who has introduced me to the seller, my barista friend will earn a commission on the sale. And how is that for objective counsel? But he has assured me that the seller is currently looking for cash for some projects and he has therefore reduced the price on the machines. A few checks and I confirm that the price is indeed less than that quoted online.

And so, after weeks of a few smaller gigs, my barista team and I now find ourselves at a major night time event. It is the sort of business we were hoping for when we started out. Kampala has many pentecostal churches running all night services. As they are Pentecostal, alcohol is out of the question. Also, because of the size of the congregations, the services have to be held outdoors. Temperatures only need to drop a few degrees before tropical heat-accustomed Kampala gets uncomfortable. It’s perfect for our business.

Tens of thousands expected, we are told. We were one of three pre-selected coffee vendors. Except that one of the teams did not show up for the pre-event meeting and got axed. And by some stroke of luck, we showed up first at the venue and booked the best tent. So we are perfectly positioned and expect to take the bulk of the sales.

At the news of the second vendor being axed, my baristas have hired a second coffee machine which has come with two more baristas. We are ready and excited.

We have not sold much before 5PM. A few iced coffees, but hardly anyone drinks coffee in the heat. But as the sun goes down, business picks up and the seamless service system that we’ve worked out starts to produce cup after cup of cappuccinos, lattes, mochas, and African coffees. It is also about this time that the lights go off in the food service area.

“What’s happening?” I ask, in panic. “Gavuddeko!” Power’s gone. One of the baristas says.

But the light is still on in the big space where the service is being held. The stage is still fully lit up. It’s the generator in the food area that is off. Several young men are rushing about with torches now. They are all heading to the generator area. One of my baristas joins them. He doubles as an electrician.

It is providence that I threw a solar lamp in my car just before I left home. I run to the car and we use the lamp to light up our tent.

A little crowd quietly waits around the coffee machine, hoping that this will not take too long to sort out. But I know that it will only be a few minutes before someone gets impatient. The thermos flask technology that most people are used to makes it difficult for them to come to terms with the fact that a power outage means an immediate halt to the coffee service.

The barista returns with information. The power load has been miscalculated. The generator is overloaded. Everyone is to now work with the bare minimum they can use. We must turn off one of the coffee machines.

It gets slightly chaotic in the tent. Two baristas without a machine to produce hissing, growling and frothing sounds from. I try not to think about the fact that they will still expect full pay, the owner of the silent machine too. We all readjust the assembly line to put every extra hand to work: taking orders, keeping the working baristas well supplied, taking turns at the machines, stirring sugar into drinks, and fastening lids onto cups.

Power goes off two more times during service. Each time this happens, the barista-electrician mumbles some things about machines being roasted by unstable power. And so to my business considerations I mentally add: machine repairs due to unreliable power.

But, the night’s takings are good. If pentecostals continue to frown on alcohol, it is perhaps the beginning of a worthwhile business.

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