REVIEW- Naked Coffee

For a week, I started my day with a piping hot cuppa from this cosmopolitan coffee house. This is what I learned:

Monday

Coffee runs, much like cattle runs, are chaotic contortion of confusion. Soccer moms are filling up their travelling mugs with molten java before heading home after the bumper-to-bumper school haul. Pin-striped pencil skirts and starched suits are knocking back espressos while typing furiously on their smartphones, firing off last-minute emails. Instagram stories are being boomeranged on one side, vintage sport coats stirring their cappuccinos on another, and somewhere in the midst of this pulsating productivity I steer myself to an isolated table by the window.

Slapping my laptop down on the table a little louder than I intended, I turn my machine on, ignoring the deafening stares of the patrons around me.

Waitrons are darting around the eatery, busying themselves with orders, bills and EFT machines. The energy isn't just palpable but contagious. I'd intended to get some writing done this morning, but my anxiety and I agree to return tomorrow, later in the day, to enjoy the coffee shop in its effortless serenity.

Tuesday

Naked Coffee is a 2km drive from my house. I arrange that my Uber driver pick me up at 9:50am so I arrive well after daily commuters have gotten their caffeine fix. Though I'm not sandwiched between a broad-shouldered businessman exhaling impatiently down my neck and a health fanatic with their yoga mat poking into my chest, the cafe is still relatively busy. 15 minutes after arriving, I motion to the waitron to take my order. Engrossed in a black hole of Buzfeed quizzes, I don't notice that two hours and three turmeric lattes have raced by.

Wednesday

I'm a creature of habit. If I try something off a menu and like it, I stick to that order until something forces me to change. Ask and my mama will tell you all about how my appetite was held hostage by chicken schnitzel, prawn curry and peppermint crisp tart all through 2006 and 2007. Since my career in food writing started, I've had to chip away at my stubborn palate.

Having tried Naked Coffee's turmeric latte yesturday, brimful of refreshing ginger, spicy cinnamon and coconut milk, I opt for the Moroccan Mint tea. The loose leaf's aroma escapes from the steaming pot, its fragrance curving through the biting winter chill. I drink my way through one pot and order another, happy with my rebellious deviation.

Thursday

"We made sure no one sat at your table," Vusi, one of the waitrons says as he gives the table by the window a final wipe down. In the few days I've patronized this coffee bar, I've come to know that Vusi is a 35-year-old from KwaZulu Natal. He has a national diploma in Human Resources Management. "It's very hard to find work these days," he'd share with me yesturday, "I'm just lucky I managed to get this job or things would be really bad" he'd added.

In between looking up to ask for Lemongrass and Coconut tea and mumbling "thank you", or something like it, when my orerarrives, I've gotten to know the staff.

Gloria is an expat from Zimbabwe. She moved to Johannesburg 12 years ago to make a better life for herself and her younger sister. Skhumbuzo, Loyiso, Talent and Bruce have all generously shared their secrets, aspirations and goals with me. I am reminded that actual people exist on the other side of the menu that's handed to me.

Friday

Fridays in Johannesburg seem to be just as frantic as Mondays. Though I'd made a point to go to Naked Coffee closer to noon since Monday's madness, today the cafe is just as full. But I have a routine. Loyiso herds me to my table and takes my order. I decide to end the week off with an indulgent Creme Brúlee tea.

How a scorched caramel flavour can be achieved through a combination of herbs and sweet spices, I'll never know, but this tea is divine. So delicious it has to be fattening, I give my palate a water break between each cup of the tea.

It's 3:30pm when I ask for my bill. I feel like I've become part of the furniture. It's been five days but it's felt much longer. After an awkward goodbye I leave. The gang may forget my face after a few weeks, or even days. Ultimately, I am but a cursory customer to them.

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Food is a labour of love. Eateries like Earth Forest make it a point to pour goodness into every meal they make. Read about the magnificent meal they made for me here.

And, my Dining on a Dime listicle proves you don't have to break the bank to enjoy good food.