Imagine a mouth full of finely ground coffee beans.

I used to work at an Italian restaurant as a server and bartender. You know the one. Where when you're there, you're supposedly family?

I don't know what they're talking about, 'cause I don't generally bring food to members of my family, and there's no way in hell I'd let them treat me the way I had to let customers treat me there.

Anyway, part of bartending there involves operating the cappuccino machine. It's one of those automatic ones that costs as much as a small car, where you just put the cup underneath the spout and push a button for whatever drink you want, and it grinds the coffee beans, steams the milk, etc, etc, and dispenses the drink. When it's done, the tamped-down patty of ground coffee gets dumped into this little receptacle on the side. They're tamped down pretty hard inside that machine, so the patties tend to stay intact.

One of our managers used to love to come to the bar on slow nights and dig out a couple of coffee patties, arrange them nicely on a plate, and top them with chocolate sauce and whipped cream, then take them to new members of the kitchen crew.

Imagine a mouth full of finely ground coffee beans.

Worked every time, too.