Celebrating Convenience and Choice in a Caffeinated World
Our weekly pitch meetings revolve around caffeine. Every Thursday at 10 a.m., the RICE Media editorial team filters into the meeting room, each clutching a cup of coffee. Given our office’s location at Ann Siang Hill, high-end coffees are almost a given.
From homemade barista-style cappuccinos—thanks to Zat, my Head of Content, who has an espresso machine—to oat milk lattes from upscale coffee spots like Parallel and Maxi, the team’s coffee culture can be described as rather pretentious (sorry, Nicole). This makes me stand out like a sore thumb. My go-to caffeine fix is an iced latte from a household brand synonymous with convenience: 7-11.
“Can I try?” Zat asks, prompting a wave of anxiety in me. After all, he used to be a food critic. I hand him the coffee, hoping for leniency. His abrupt recoil after the first sip tells me everything I need to know.
“I only taste the milk,” Zat critiques, promptly shoving the cup back into my hands. How could I possibly bring convenience store coffee into the realm of RICE Media? The office of self-proclaimed coffee connoisseurs. In the face of expensive oat milk cappuccinos from those chic cafes nestled in gentrified shophouses? Pure sacrilege. (Note: While editing, Zat added a comment, “I’d rather you drink a can of Nescafe coffee.”)
The first time I brought my iced latte into the office, I was met with confused glances. Their reaction is understandable, especially given the recent wave of complaints about 7-11’s coffee. Last month, Reddit users expressed their concerns over the drinkability of 7-11 coffee, alleging that the hopper of the coffee machine was coated in thick brown grease, obscuring the view of the coffee beans. One user even recounted finding ants in their coffee—an unexpected source of protein for the caffeine-seeking customer.
I’m fortunate to have avoided such experiences. Even if I had stumbled upon a greasy coffee machine, I wouldn’t jump to condemn all 422 stores in the country. A single poorly maintained coffee machine doesn’t define an entire franchise.
Aromatic, Robust, Flavorful—Sometimes.
Make no mistake, this article isn’t a rose-tinted review of 7-11 coffee. The facts must be stated clearly. For $2.90, you get an iced latte (the Americano is only a dollar on Mondays). You certainly get what you pay for. The coffee grounds aren’t tamped into a portafilter, and the rich, chocolatey flavor notes typically associated with Arabica beans are often muted. Each visit to 7-11 for a latte feels like a lucky dip. Some days, the coffee is robust, nearly indistinguishable from café lattes. On others, like the day Zat conducted his taste test, it tastes more like coffee-flavored milk.
This is to be expected. The coffee produced, much like the machine that brews it, lacks character. The mechanical apparatus replaces the artistry of a skilled barista. It’s functional, yes, but still capable of delivering the same utility as any branded café. While my colleagues may have refined palates, it doesn’t change the fact that 7-11 lattes do the job—all for an economical price of $2.90.
In This Economy? A Godsend.
Let’s be real. A latte from a ‘proper’ café nearby typically costs around $6 in Singapore. That $4 difference could easily fund a decent plate of cai fan. That said, the premium pricing of café lattes is understandable. When you enter a high-end café, the barista hands you your drink, possibly with your name misspelled on the side, and you settle into a cozy atmosphere that exudes “main character energy.” There’s a cost associated with all of that.
You can rest assured that the Arabica beans in your café latte are sourced from high altitudes, sustainably farmed, and freshly roasted. The espresso is crafted by the deft hands of a barista, each pull a work of art. There’s no way to say this without a hint of pretentiousness. The café experience is as vital as the coffee itself, and all of this contributes to the price of a fancy latte.
7-11 may have introduced its own café concept in Singapore—a recent venture into territory not typically associated with its brand of convenience. However, there’s none of the café experience here—just grab your coffee and go. 7-11’s café offerings cater to customers seeking a latte that won’t break the bank. As a struggling student, I need to stretch my budget—boujee living on a shoestring, if you will. In an economy teetering on the brink of recession, finding quality at a reasonable price is essential.
The Convenience Store Experience
While upscale cafés create a particular atmosphere, convenience stores offer their own unique experience. There’s the familiar jingle that greets your entrance, the weary cashier at the end of a night shift or the start of an early morning, and a customer, bleary-eyed from the previous night’s festivities, staring blankly at the glass fridges. It’s an experience in its own right.
In Singapore, convenience stores often feel like an afterthought. How could they not? With supermarkets open 24/7, convenience stores are typically the last resort. Perhaps this is why convenience store culture doesn’t flourish here as it does in other countries. I suspect there isn’t enough room for a vibrant convenience store scene, as many stores in Singapore are crammed into tight corners. Yet, we still unwittingly participate in a broader culture that thrives in Japan and Korea.
“The true star of the Akutagawa Prize-winning novel Convenience Store Woman is the convenience store itself. But what makes these shops so enchanting?” begins a BBC article exploring Japanese convenience store culture. Convenience Store Woman tells the story of Keiko Furukura, a 36-year-old Tokyo resident who finds herself working at the aptly named “Smile Mart.” Through its unassuming doors, she learns to navigate the world that flows through it. The article answers its own question with a quote from the protagonist: “(The convenience store) has to be somewhere people can enjoy and take pleasure in discovering the things they like.” I find that sentiment relatable.
A Creature of Routine
Perhaps that’s what keeps me returning to the convenience store each week—the comforting routine of discovering something new. I’m a creature of habit. I know my day is on track when I make it to 7-11 for my cup of coffee. You peel back the lid on the pre-packaged cup of ice, adjust the nozzle on the coffee machine, contemplate a microwavable breakfast burrito—you ultimately skip it—select the iced latte option, and pay at the counter while the coffee brews into your weekly caffeine fix.
There’s a certain meditativeness to this ritual—it’s almost therapeutic. I concede, however, that 7-11 coffee may not hold its own against upscale competitors. But what it lacks in taste and craftsmanship, it compensates for in what it represents. Like the protagonist of Convenience Store Woman, 7-11 offers a chance to discover what you enjoy. Each time you choose 7-11 coffee, you engage in the simple pleasure of finding something that meets your needs, even amidst the looming threat of recession.
If you can embrace 7-11 coffee, a product often criticized, you can apply that acceptance to many other aspects of life. It’s not merely about the satisfying experience of expertly brewed coffee; it’s about the empowering feeling of making your own choices. For me, that’s the essence of 7-11 caffeine.
All Hail 7-11 Coffee
The following week, I walk into our pitch meeting with a 7-11 coffee in hand, wearing it like a badge of honor, as my 7Cafe cup stands proud among the other brand-name iced lattes and mochas. I recognize that convenience store coffee—understandably—will never reach the aromatic heights of its more upscale counterparts. However, the convenience store experience offers something unique while providing value-for-money coffee. It may not be everyone’s first choice, but it certainly can be if you let it be. While 7-11 may rank last on the list of coffee options for many enthusiasts, it’s an experience everyone should have at least once—even Zat, grease-soaked coffee machine or not.
