That, for some odd reason, reminds me of a chap who myself & the Mrs kept seeing at a local bar every morning during one of our jollies in Italy: he always asked for a cortissimo and often literally rejected it just looking at it (the bar staff seemed to know him particularly well and, looking at their faces, I'm not sure they were particularly fond either...): once happy with the colour or the aroma (or I'm not entirely sure what to be entirely honest!), he would literally just sip its coffee slightly and leave the rest in the cup.

G