Cafe Culture Across The Continents

Every country – and sometimes city – has it’s own café culture. I’m here to describe my experience in three different places: Italy, Buenos Aires, and Seattle.

ITALY
In Italy one takes coffee in a “Bar”. Typically Italians get their coffee standing up “al banco”, at the bar, because if they were to sit down, they’d have to pay extra for service. After paying at the “cassa”, cashier, you take your “scontrino”, receipt, to the barista who prepares your “caffè”. Caffè here means a shot of espresso. You can also order a cappuccino or a caffè latte, but only in the mornings – it’s cultural taboo to have something that heavy in the afternoon. Though nobody’s going to get mad at you if you prefer your cappuccino late in the day. I’ve always loved the “bar” concept in Italy. There is a bar on nearly every corner in Italian towns, it seems, and the reason I love it so much is that if I’m on my way somewhere but I need just that little extra pick-me-up, I can duck into a bar, do my “shot” of coffee, and go on my merry little way. All for about 80 cents. And no paper cups to contend with.

I’ll never forget Michele and Mauro at the bar that belongs to the University for Foreigners in Perugia. They love making conversation with the regulars and they make you feel like the only customer, even though it’s usually crowded with professors and students, depending on the hour. Mauro is the most popular with the girls, with his baby face that you just want to kiss. It’s always wonderful to hear him talk about his spare-time activities, which sometimes involve “calcetto” (a version of soccer), or helping some friends in nearby Tuscany with their olive trees. Michele is the older-brother type figure who loves to flirt and more or less runs the place. These guys remember everyone. It is rare that I have to order a drink, because when they see me coming, they already know.

BUENOS AIRES

(Café Tortoni in Buenos Aires, by Tina Ferrari)

In Buenos Aires, the cafés are very special.
They reminisce of an older time, around the early 1900’s, when Buenos Aires was a booming Paris of sorts. The waiters are usually in uniforms, and the cafés (as well as the streets of the city itself) exude an energy of “worn” elegance and nostalgia. The process of being served coffee in Buenos Aires has often been compared to that of Austria. But I highly doubt that Austrian cafés have that same feeling, that same ghost, the melancholy that I notice in Argentina.

The feeling in the air in the city of Buenos Aires is like the way your skin feels after you’ve quickly ripped a bandage off – that sense of relief, of “thank God we’re past that”, accompanied by the lingering memory of recent pain. The hope of beginning to heal, combined with the lingering reminders of what has happened. The cafes serve as a welcome escape as well as a taste of nostalgia for yesterday. The nearest café to my apartment was located on Av. Entre Rios, and named Café Carlos Gardel, after the late tango-singing legend. I loved looking around at all the old regulars, wondering what they must have been thinking.

I loved the way I was served at all the cafés. I was served with dignity and class.
When you order your “cafecito”, it comes complete with a little glass of water (“with gas”) and a plate of two or three little cookies. The waiter places down one thing at a time, giving each item its own moment in the spotlight. What a wonderful process. And there is nothing like staring out the window while you drink your coffee. If it’s morning, you might order a “medialuna”, croissant. There are two kinds in Buenos Aires – medialunas de manteca (butter), which have a sweet glaze, and my favorite, medialunas de grasa, which contain the fabulous secret ingredient of cow fat, and are much more satisfying than the former. The medialunas of Buenos Aires are tiny and rich. I’d even say they’re smaller than the Parisian croissants. They’re almost cute.

SEATTLE
In Seattle it’s a little different. Seattle is the birthplace of the double-grande-nonfat-no-whip-mocha-with-a-shot-of-sugar-free-vanilla-and-you get the picture. I’ve never been able to follow all of those drink names. It’s very much a “grab your coffee and go with your paper cup while being careful not to let it spill out of the little sippy hole onto your nice jacket” world. Needless to say, Seattle does have its share of small, independent businesses that concentrate on making good-quality coffee. My favorite coffee companies in Seattle are Caffè Ladro (home of the “Medici”, a mocha with a twist of orange peel), Vivace, and Caffè Umbria (run by a family from Perugia!). This morning I had time to sit down in a café before going to work, and chose to take my breakfast at Dilettante, home of some amazing chocolates and also known for its wonderful pastries. I ordered a Turkish-spiced coffee, which the menu specifies comes in a demitasse. Oh joy!

The barista started to put it in a paper cup anyway. I stopped her just in time to ask her for a ceramic cup. She looked a little confused, even though there were many ceramic cups in her line of vision behind the counter. I guess not many people make such a request. She gladly switched to a nice little demitasse for me, and I was able to enjoy my wonderful cardamom-spiced espresso at a table by the window. I tried to pretend I was in Buenos Aires, but the ambience just wasn’t the same… In any event, what a nice way to start the day. I think I’m going to do it more often.

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