Day six was brought to you by almost running out of everything — beans, milk, and maybe a little bit of patience — but somehow still ending up with a really good cup of coffee.

Not a perfect cup.

Not a “frame-it-and-post-it-everywhere” latte.

But a delicious one. And honestly, that’s always the goal.

There’s something oddly grounding about realizing you’re working with limited supplies. Just enough beans to pull a shot. Barely enough milk to steam. No room for error. No extra to waste. Suddenly every movement matters a little more. Every sound is louder. Every mistake feels bigger — especially when it’s captured on camera.

And yes… the milk turned into something resembling frothy paint.

Not microfoam. Not silky gloss. Frothy. Airy. A little aggressive. The kind of foam that politely reminds you that you were multitasking when you probably shouldn’t have been.

But before we get into the foam fiasco, let’s talk about the bigger lesson of Day 6.

The Goal Is Always the Taste

Barista Journey | What an Imperfect Cup Taught Me

From the beginning of this journey, I’ve had one rule that I keep coming back to:

the coffee has to taste good.

Latte art is fun. It’s creative. It’s satisfying when it works. But if I have to choose between a pretty pour and a great tasting cup, I will pick taste every single time.

Day six didn’t give me the latte art I wanted. The milk was foamier than it should have been. The texture wasn’t quite right. But when I took that first sip? It was rich, warm, balanced, and genuinely enjoyable.

And that matters.

There’s a lot of pressure — especially online — to make things look perfect. To have every cup be café-worthy. To nail it every time. But this journey isn’t about pretending I’m already good at something I’m still learning. It’s about showing up, learning out loud, and enjoying the process even when the foam doesn’t cooperate.

Filming + Steaming Milk = A Lot of Accidental Air

If you watch the Day 6 video, you can actually hear how much air I’m accidentally putting into the milk.

That high-pitched sssshhht sound?

That’s me adding way too much air while trying to:

• Adjust the camera
• Keep the pitcher in frame
• Not spill milk
• Not waste milk
• And remember what step I’m on

Turns out, milk steaming does not appreciate divided attention.

One of the biggest realizations I had on Day 6 is that camera placement matters just as much as pitcher placement. I was so focused on making sure everything was visible that I wasn’t checking where the milk line actually was in relation to the wand.

Now I’m learning to:

• Check the position of the pitcher
• Check the level of the milk
• Check how it looks through the lens
• And then make adjustments before turning on the steam

It’s wild how quickly this journey stopped being just about coffee. I’m learning two entirely new skills at the same time — espresso and filming — and both require patience, repetition, and a willingness to look a little awkward while figuring it out.

Before the Coffee Even Starts

One thing the videos don’t always show is everything that happens before the coffee.

Because before I even touch the machine:

• Dishes have to be done
• Animals have to be fed
• And our outdoor cat friend has to be acknowledged

You can hear him in the background sometimes — yelling, demanding attention, reminding us that no matter how focused we are on coffee, he absolutely exists and would like more love immediately.

There’s something grounding about that. Life doesn’t pause just because I want to practice latte art. The routine of caring for animals and cleaning up the kitchen is part of this process too. It forces me to slow down, to be present, and to earn the quiet moment where I finally get to make coffee.

The Checklist (AKA: The Part That Keeps Me Sane)

By Day 6, I’ve realized something important: I rely heavily on routine.

Just like archery, coffee requires a mental checklist — and I can tell immediately when I skip a step. The results don’t lie. The shot pulls differently. The milk behaves differently. Everything feels just slightly off.

So here’s the process I walk through every single time:

1. Make sure the machine has enough water
2. Turn on the machine at least 15 minutes before making a cup
3. Prime the machine
4. Weigh out 18g of coffee and turn on the liquid setting on the scale
5. Put the beans in the grinder and make sure the lid is closed
6. Grind the beans
7. Get the milk ready from the fridge
8. Use the distribution tool to get rid of any clumps
9. Remove the grinding cover
10. Tamp
11. Put the scale and cup in ready position
12. Pull the espresso
13. Set the espresso on top of the machine to stay warm while I work on the milk

That’s the foundation. That’s the part I trust.

Then comes the milk — the area where I’m still learning the most.

14. Clear the steam wand
15. Position the wand at a 45-degree angle, pulling it all the way out
16. Set the wand in the milk at the spout of the pitcher
17. Place the wand about halfway from the spout
18. Then about a quarter from the edge
19. Turn the wand on and let it sit just at the surface until you hear the milk being pulled
20. Continue this until the pitcher reaches the temperature of my hand, then dip the wand slightly deeper to stop adding air
21. Stay at that depth while the milk circulates, breaking up bubbles
22. Once the pitcher is too hot to keep my hand on, turn off the machine — without removing the wand until it’s fully stopped
23. Clear the wand again and remove any milk residue

From here forward is where I’m still experimenting and learning:

24. Swirl the milk and espresso
25. Tap the pitcher to get rid of remaining bubbles
26. Pour slowly, creating a canvas with the milk and espresso
27. Start in the middle, get closer to the surface, let the foam float, and pull through to make the heart

Some days that heart shows up.

Some days it absolutely does not.

Coffee and Archery: Clearing the Mind

What surprised me the most on this journey is how similar coffee feels to archery.

In archery, I run through a checklist in my head:

• Stance
• Grip
• Anchor
• Breath
• Release

If I rush it, the shot shows it.

If I skip a step, the arrow tells on me.

Coffee is the same way.

This routine clears my mind. It pulls me into the present moment. It forces me to slow down, focus on my hands, and trust the process instead of the outcome. That’s why I’ve fallen in love with both hobbies. They don’t let you rush. They don’t reward chaos. They ask you to be intentional.

Humbling — and Enjoyable

Day 6 wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t perfect. The milk was too foamy. The pour wasn’t what I envisioned. But the coffee tasted great, the routine felt familiar, and I learned something new — not just about milk, but about patience and presence.

This whole process has been humbling in the best way. It reminds me that learning is allowed to be messy. That progress isn’t linear. And that sometimes the most important part is simply showing up, doing the work, and enjoying the moment.

I’m learning coffee.

I’m learning how to film.

I’m learning how to slow down.

And maybe one day, these hobbies — born from curiosity, routine, and a love for process — will turn into my life’s work.

But for now?

I’ll take a slightly foamy latte that tastes amazing and a day spent learning something new.