
An espresso, a scoop of protein powder, a matcha whisk, and my rather flexible interpretation of what ingredients are supposed to be used for.
I love coffee.
Espresso, particularly.
But I'm not especially religious about how coffee should be prepared or consumed.
I drink all sorts of coffee, made in different ways, depending on where I am, what equipment is available, and what I happen to feel like drinking.
And my morning coffee is perfectly normal.
Pretty much what everybody drinks.
Except, perhaps, for the scoop of protein powder.
Yes.
Protein.
In my espresso.
I really don't see what the fuss is about.
A protein shake pretending to be coffee
I usually have some protein powder in the kitchen.
Sometimes it's whey protein.
Sometimes plant-based.
Sometimes unflavoured, sometimes vanilla.
At the moment, I'm using a vanilla-flavoured vegan protein powder.
And one of my favourite ways to consume it is with my morning coffee.
The preparation is almost embarrassingly simple.
First, I take a separate cup.
I add one scoop of protein powder.
Then approximately 50 ml of cold milk.
And I whisk everything together.
Not with a blender.
Not with an expensive protein shaker that looks like equipment from a pharmaceutical laboratory.
With my matcha whisk.
Yes, the little bamboo whisk normally used for preparing Japanese green tea.
I've discovered that it's remarkably useful for mixing powders into small quantities of liquid.
Protein powder, for example.
The goal is to get a smooth mixture without unpleasant lumps.
Once that's done, I prepare my espresso and add it to the protein-and-milk mixture.
Stir.
And there we are.
Morning coffee.
A rather substantial, creamy coffee drink with an additional serving of protein.
When I use vanilla-flavoured powder, there's a gentle vanilla note.
When I use unflavoured powder, the result is closer to an ordinary milk-based coffee.
The different powders don't taste exactly the same, of course. Plant-based protein can have a different flavour and texture from whey.
But the principle remains identical.
And it works perfectly well for me.
Why I don't throw the powder straight into the espresso
There's a small practical reason for my preparation method.
Protein powders aren't always enthusiastic about being introduced directly to hot liquid.
Depending on the product, they can clump together.
And while I like experimenting with food, I don't particularly want little rubbery islands floating in my morning espresso.
So I mix the powder with cold milk first.
That way, I can see what I'm doing.
I can adjust the consistency.
And by the time I add the espresso, I've already got a reasonably smooth base.
It's a tiny kitchen optimisation.
Nothing revolutionary.
But I like these little improvements.
Especially when they involve using equipment I already own.
The matcha whisk has turned out to be much more versatile than its original job description suggested.
I suspect the Japanese tea masters would have some opinions about that.
And then there are my mysterious bags of healthy things
I have another habit.
I like buying mixtures of grains, seeds, nuts, berries, and similar ingredients that are usually marketed as healthy additions to the diet.
You know the sort of products.
Things you're supposed to sprinkle over yogurt.
Or breakfast cereal.
Or add to a smoothie.
Sometimes they're finely ground.
Sometimes they're crunchy.
Sometimes they contain combinations of ingredients that sound like somebody emptied the more expensive shelves of a health-food shop into one packet.
I enjoy them.
Not because I expect a spoonful of seeds to transform me into an Olympic athlete.
But because they can add interesting flavours and textures to ordinary food.
And I don't particularly care what the package says I'm supposed to do with them.
One product I'm using at the moment is Gayelord Hauser Super Mix Vitalité+, a French blend featuring flaxseed, buckwheat, and red berries.
On the packaging it says lin, sarrasin & fruits rouges.
A very respectable selection.
Obviously, it's perfectly at home in yogurt or breakfast cereal.
But why stop there?
Who decided seeds belong only in breakfast?
I frequently use these kinds of mixtures in places where they're not necessarily expected.
Salads, for example.
That's an obvious one.
A little extra texture.
A slightly nutty flavour.
Something to make the salad more interesting.
But I'll also experiment with them in soups.
Or sauces.
Sometimes a ground seed mixture can change the body and flavour of a sauce.
Sometimes it works.
Sometimes the result is less impressive.
That's part of cooking.
And I'm quite happy to find out.
Naturally, I don't use every mixture in every dish.
A blend containing dried berries and sweet ingredients may be more appropriate for certain combinations than others.
But I don't automatically assume something belongs exclusively in the category printed on its packaging.
I prefer to think about what it actually tastes like.
What texture it has.
And what it might contribute to the food.
My sauces can become rather unconventional
The same approach applies to sauces and condiments.
Suppose I'm having something perfectly ordinary.
French fries.
Fish balls.
Some other simple snack.
I may decide that the interesting part should be the sauce rather than the main ingredient.
So I experiment.
Different flavour combinations.
Different textures.
A little acidity.
Something creamy.
Something spicy.
Perhaps an unexpected ingredient that was originally intended for something else.
I've always enjoyed this sort of improvisation.
It doesn't have to become a complicated recipe.
Sometimes it's simply a matter of mixing two or three things and discovering that they work surprisingly well together.
And the same curiosity occasionally extends to drinks.
Tomato juice, for example.
It's already savoury, so it offers completely different possibilities from milk or yogurt.
I like experimenting with those combinations too.
Not every idea deserves to become a permanent part of my cooking.
But the successful ones occasionally turn into habits.
Much like my protein coffee.
My extremely complicated morning coffee recipe
For anyone curious, here's the complete procedure.
Ingredients
- One freshly brewed espresso
- One scoop of protein powder, either whey or plant-based
- Approximately 50 ml cold milk
I currently use vanilla-flavoured plant-based protein, but I've also used ordinary whey protein.
Method
- Put the protein powder into a separate cup.
- Add approximately 50 ml of cold milk.
- Whisk thoroughly until the mixture is smooth. I use a bamboo matcha whisk.
- Brew an espresso.
- Add the espresso to the protein-and-milk mixture.
- Stir and drink.
There.
A recipe so complicated I'm considering publishing a technical manual.
The only detail I particularly recommend from my own experience is mixing the protein with cold milk before adding the coffee.
That helps me avoid lumps.
Everything else is negotiable.
The type of coffee.
The protein.
The proportions.
Whether you prefer the result stronger or milkier.
I'm sure everybody can work out their own version.
Food doesn't know which supermarket shelf it came from
Looking back at my recent Kitchen Notes, I'm beginning to recognise a pattern.
I've put raclette cheese into oatmeal pancakes.
Made condensed milk with matcha.
Used ready-prepared French carrots in Ukrainian borscht.
Cooked potatoes in duck fat.
Experimented with yogurt, oats, and various things that were never intended to end up in the same bowl.
And now I'm making espresso with protein powder while adding seed-and-grain mixtures to all sorts of other foods.
Apparently, I have a rather relaxed attitude towards the intended use of ingredients.
But I don't see that as a problem.
When I look at an ingredient, I'm interested in what it does.
What does it taste like?
What texture does it bring?
Does it make the dish more interesting?
Can it simplify the preparation?
Is there an unexpected combination worth trying?
The fact that something is sold as a breakfast topping doesn't mean it becomes illegal after eleven in the morning.
And protein powder doesn't have to be consumed from an enormous plastic shaker while standing outside a gym.
Sometimes it can simply become part of a perfectly pleasant cup of coffee.
I'm not claiming that these combinations have miraculous nutritional properties.
They're just ways of preparing food that I enjoy.
Some are convenient.
Some are interesting.
Some turn out better than expected.
And some become so ordinary that I eventually forget other people might find them unusual.
Like my morning espresso.
Coffee.
Milk.
Protein.
A matcha whisk.
Completely normal.
I'm sure the Italians would understand.
