Espresso X Madeleine Novels & Stories

The kitchen island itself had become something—not just a surface but a border, a place where they met in the morning before the day pulled them in different directions. Elijah had the coffee. He'd started making it differently six months ago—not the French press he'd used in Brooklyn, not the complicated espresso setup Alexander had had in the penthouse before, but something in between. A Chemex. The pour-over method took exactly four minutes and required attention but not anxiety. He'd learned it from a barista at the café near the culinary school, the one he went to on the mornings when he needed to be out of the apartment before the day had fully started, and he'd brought it home and pra

Maggie came out with a large brown bag with twine handles and Common Grounds stamped on the side and a box of coffee that had its own handle. “Now I’ve put good paper plates, cups and napkins in here as well as some silverware. Just bring the silverware back to me later. There’s quiche, sausage kolaches and chocolate croissants. I also threw in some creamer and sugar for the coffee as well as a couple of Diet Dr. Peppers in for Dani since heaven knows she won’t drink coffee – even mine! Can you believe it? And we have the best coffee in town if I do say so myself. JT roasts the beans himself.”

"I haven't tried that yet but I have to admit her croissants had the best texture and tasted otherworldly when paired the cup of coffee,” "I see she gave you a cup of macchiato because of how well the strong flavor balances out the flaky goodness. If you are opportuned in the nearest future please consider trying her; Pain au Chocolat, Pain aux Raisins, Croissant aux Amandes, Chausson aux Pommes, Kouign-Amann and Palmier. She makes the best viennoiserie ever!” she said and I couldn't help but smile at how passionately she spoke about the bread. Maybe she was related to the lady at the cafe. Who knew?

Pisses me off that all I can do is watch her swallow it. I took a bite of her dessert, and sweetness bloomed across my tongue. The tempest in me went instantly quiet. Lemon honey Madeleine. My favorite. Golden as late-afternoon sun, shell ridges gleaming under the lights. One bite. The crumb melted slow. Lemon kissed first, then honey slid silk-smooth over my tongue, and a whisper of butter opened warm at the end. Not just a feast for my taste buds. It was a small salvation. Every time I had these Madeleines, the angry energy that had built up inside from all that power would suddenly calm down, like a stormy sea going quiet all at once.

Crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, they were irresistible. As if we hadn't eaten enough that we might pop, we also tried Madeleines, small shell-shaped cakes that were slightly crispy on the outside. They had a hint of lemon that made them refreshingly different from most of the desserts I've had, even though I wasn't really a lemon fan. To wash all this down, we got a bottle of Château Margaux, a red wine with a slightly acidic taste. Cecil, being the wine enthusiast she is, nearly finished the whole bottle herself.

“Good morning.” “Good morning.” He greets me normally, with a small smile. “Are you going to get coffee too?” “Yeah.” I say it, and then I start to remember something. “Wait, don’t you like green tea more than coffee?” “Wow. You remembered.” It surprises me when Xander displays a gleeful expression. He seems really happy at the moment. “Actually, I am going to order their matcha espresso. I saw it on their menu outside.” “They have one?”

He came over to my seat and gave me another hug. The door opened and Edward walked in. He had a basket filled with freshly baked goods. I could smell them. "Please tell me there's chocolate croissants in there..." Mason said as he made his way to the basket. "Well I don't know what's in there, I know that Pepper spent the whole night baking." He said and put the baked goodies on the table. "Coffee? " I offered him and he took it. "Thank you ..." He said and took a sip.

The large fridge is filled with all manner of goodies; individual lemon meringue tarts sit beside chocolate brownies and treacle tarts and much more. Emma, our new barista, has proved to be a dab hand at our coffee machine, and we are all slightly jittery at the amount of caffeine we have consumed as a result of her ‘practising’. Bea and Andreas have penned descriptions for every single confection, which has resulted in much laughter from all of us as they bickered about how to phrase certain things.

What the heck is Eleanor Roosevelt doing here? "A cup of Espresso laced with milk. What would you like to get?" A girl asked and I smiled before my eyes washed over the menu. "She'll have an espresso as well. With milk and maybe a little bit of Sugar? Not too much, just one teaspoon is enough." "Alright. Will be right back." "Espresso?" I asked and he nodded his head before his eyes studied my face. "Don't tell me you don't know Espresso?" "I–" "Hey, Marie?" He hollered suddenly and all eyes turned to us. Including my sister's.

Vincenzo said at last. It was an order. I forced myself to take another bite, though my throat felt too tight for food. Every time I lifted my eyes. Time stretched. Coffee was refilled. Chairs creaked. Eventually, the clink of cutlery slowed, then stopped altogether. Madeleine pushed back her chair first. She leaned toward Adriano, murmuring something under her breath that made his lips twitch into a crooked smile. She glanced at me once, a brief look, before slipping out of her seat.