It’s coffee, the name is black cinnamon.
I’ve been a coffee drinker since I started working as a designer. Probably because of all the late nights and overtime: when I was younger, it helped me stay awake longer. Now that I’m older (I think), coffee doesn’t really boost my stamina the way it used to. Still, there’s something about having a cup of coffee while working that feels just right. It’s a small joy, a ritual that makes everything feel complete.
Now that I visit cafés more often, I’ve tried a lot of different coffee. But all these trendy milk-based variations don’t really interest me. They also mess with my stomach acid. I like my coffee pure: Americano, long black, or anything as long as it’s black, no milk, no cream.
Recently, I tried black cinnamon coffee from a café near my child’s school. I started going there while working and waiting for school to finish. At first, I thought it was just black coffee with sugar and a sprinkle of cinnamon. But it turned out to be so much better than I expected. I even tried Googling the recipe to make it myself, but nothing quite matches the taste of the one from that café.
Now, it has become my favorite drink. My favorite coffee.