Oh sure, I had grandiose visions of a fancy espresso machine that did it all, including the froth, for a great cappuccino, but the good ones tote price tags lacking entirely in affordability. I looked all over for a registry-bearing store that sold an old-fashioned stove-top milk frother to no avail. Target was a bust, as was Penny's, which surprised me given the sheer number of useless kitchen inventions I find when walking through their housewares department. Nevertheless, my search was for nought until I happened to check the Williams Sonoma website. In general, I don't often shop at Williams Sonoma because, as a rule, they aim for a clientelle with a higher price-point than I ever intend to fork over (as in, even if I had the money for it, I wouldn't want to spend the exorbitant prices of WS, i.e. I'm cheap).
However, there was no denying the stupendousness of houseware options on their website. They did not have a cooktop milk frother, but they did have a handheld one. Just heat up the milk, plunk in the Aerolatte and poof--frothed milk.
My solution was to instruct the husband that I was in absolute need of 1%, which he purchased without too much fanfare. I frothed some up in a cup and added it to my coffee. It looked like this:
Not too frothy, but at least it frothed. Then, the bubbles started disintegrating before I could even take a sip, which is when I had two revelations:
1. I forgot to heat the milk first and
2. I really don't like cow's milk anyway.
I took some almond milk out of the cupboard and put it in the fridge. When it came time for cappuccino, I heated up a bit of almond goodness occupying the very bottom of a drinking glass. Then, I frothed it right up to the top, added it to a half mug of coffee, and sprinkled on the cinnamon.
Here is a trendy coffee franchise cappuccino without the risk of having its employees, who have no idea how to make a decent coffee, destroy said cappuccino with grounds, burnt coffee, or pathetic foam. And with the delicate taste of almond milk replacing its weaker cow-based cousin.
I am the queen barrista of my own kitchen.