How to drink coffee in Rome
Created | Updated Jan 28, 2002
Rome. Whether I love it passionately or hate it to smithereens depends on my mood when I wake up.
It also depends, in large part, on whether it is Giuseppe or Franco on morning duty at the Bar Zito. Let me explain why. Although it may not seem so, there are actually only a few things that the Italians are really obsessive about. Apart from the obvious ones such as their mothers and football and the stranger ones like bowel movements (I'll come back to that one later), coffee happens to be one of the most seriously taken subjects in Italy - a national concern as it where. It isn't such a difficult thing to understand for the English who are themselves addicted to tea. "Il caffè" in Italy is elevated to an art, it is a ritual performed only by the adept and it is highly personalised.
I have now been living in Italy for 6 years and have only just found the right "caffè" for me. I'm not talking about different brands or different flavours, I'm talking subtle variations. There is a whole etiquette, a nomenclature which has to be learned before you even start to adventure yourself in this field. But, I hear you asking, what can be so mysterious and complicated about having a simple cup of coffee in the morning. Well, there are several factors - coffee and milk are obviously the basic ingredients but sugar, temperature and the recipient also play an important part.
Firstly, it is important to point out that Italians do not have breakfast, not like the rest of Europe does anyway. Breakfast for an Italian is a coffee and maybe a "cornetto" which is a bad, sticky-sweet imitation of a French croissant. These are taken standing up in a bar, usually the same one each morning. One can therefore begin to understand why it is that how they have their coffee is important - it is usually their only form of sustainment until lunch time (which is late).
When I first went to bar Zito one morning to have breakfast I was stupefied. There before my eyes was taking place a strange kind of ballet with people shouting what seemed to be words in code. There is a whole chain of acts that have to be accomplished before you actually get to taste your caffe. The first step is to pre-pay your order at the till. You then saunter over to the bar and start waving your receipt around until the bartender in charge of taking the orders takes notice of you (this is usually accomplished by accompanying the reciept with some small change which goes right into his pocket). He then relays your order to the bartender in charge of the actual coffee making.
This is where the problems begin. You see, there must be something like 30 variations, and these are just the standard ones. In fact, the words "un caffe" don't get you very far, you have to add things like "machiato" , literally "stained" which would be the equivalent of "just a dash of milk" but here the ramifications start, do you want it "machiato caldo" (with hot milk) or "machiato freddo" (withcold milk) or then again "con la schiumetta" (with the frothy milk used for cappuccino). You see how it begins to complicate. You also have to decide whether you want it in a cold cup, a warm cup or in a little glass. I have seen customers refuse to drink coffee from a normal ceramic cup and insist on having it served from a little glass. When asked why it is so important and if it changes the taste, the offended customer just shrugs his shoulders. What if you want a cappuccino, which by the way is never, never taken after 11:00 in the morning (hence the smouldering looks when Americans ask for one after dinner). Well don't think a cappuccino is just a cappuccino, you have to decide if you want it "chiaro" (light coloured) or not, if you want hot, tepid or cold, if you want a lot of froth or very little. There is even a version with no froth at all, which contradicts the very idea of cappuccino. When I remarked to a friend that this last version was, all told a "caffe latte" (coffee with milk) I was told indignantly that it was nothing of the kind, although I have ordered both and have still to find the difference ! Finally we come to my favourite - the "latte machiato". Those of you which have got the hang of the lingo so far will have deciphered this as being milk dashed with coffee, and so it is. This also has a myriad of variations which all depend on the temperature of the milk, its consistency and the proportion of coffee which is added.
Personally I like it "chiaro, tiepido e con tanta schiuma" (light, tepid and with lots of froth). This is where Giuseppe and Franco come into the question. Giuseppe is an artist, he froths the milk to just the right consistency and adds just a nuance of coffee. Franco, on the other hand tends to be heavy handed on the coffee and always makes it too hot to drink it all in one go, which is how I like it. Six months ago I wouldn't have known the difference between this marvellously creamy concoction and the other seventy six coffee-based beverages available in an Italian bar, I probably didn't even know it existed. What I find really frightening is that if its not done the way I want, I'm capable of sending it back - just like an Italian:-)
It also depends, in large part, on whether it is Giuseppe or Franco on morning duty at the Bar Zito. Let me explain why. Although it may not seem so, there are actually only a few things that the Italians are really obsessive about. Apart from the obvious ones such as their mothers and football and the stranger ones like bowel movements (I'll come back to that one later), coffee happens to be one of the most seriously taken subjects in Italy - a national concern as it where. It isn't such a difficult thing to understand for the English who are themselves addicted to tea. "Il caffè" in Italy is elevated to an art, it is a ritual performed only by the adept and it is highly personalised.
I have now been living in Italy for 6 years and have only just found the right "caffè" for me. I'm not talking about different brands or different flavours, I'm talking subtle variations. There is a whole etiquette, a nomenclature which has to be learned before you even start to adventure yourself in this field. But, I hear you asking, what can be so mysterious and complicated about having a simple cup of coffee in the morning. Well, there are several factors - coffee and milk are obviously the basic ingredients but sugar, temperature and the recipient also play an important part.
Firstly, it is important to point out that Italians do not have breakfast, not like the rest of Europe does anyway. Breakfast for an Italian is a coffee and maybe a "cornetto" which is a bad, sticky-sweet imitation of a French croissant. These are taken standing up in a bar, usually the same one each morning. One can therefore begin to understand why it is that how they have their coffee is important - it is usually their only form of sustainment until lunch time (which is late).
When I first went to bar Zito one morning to have breakfast I was stupefied. There before my eyes was taking place a strange kind of ballet with people shouting what seemed to be words in code. There is a whole chain of acts that have to be accomplished before you actually get to taste your caffe. The first step is to pre-pay your order at the till. You then saunter over to the bar and start waving your receipt around until the bartender in charge of taking the orders takes notice of you (this is usually accomplished by accompanying the reciept with some small change which goes right into his pocket). He then relays your order to the bartender in charge of the actual coffee making.
This is where the problems begin. You see, there must be something like 30 variations, and these are just the standard ones. In fact, the words "un caffe" don't get you very far, you have to add things like "machiato" , literally "stained" which would be the equivalent of "just a dash of milk" but here the ramifications start, do you want it "machiato caldo" (with hot milk) or "machiato freddo" (withcold milk) or then again "con la schiumetta" (with the frothy milk used for cappuccino). You see how it begins to complicate. You also have to decide whether you want it in a cold cup, a warm cup or in a little glass. I have seen customers refuse to drink coffee from a normal ceramic cup and insist on having it served from a little glass. When asked why it is so important and if it changes the taste, the offended customer just shrugs his shoulders. What if you want a cappuccino, which by the way is never, never taken after 11:00 in the morning (hence the smouldering looks when Americans ask for one after dinner). Well don't think a cappuccino is just a cappuccino, you have to decide if you want it "chiaro" (light coloured) or not, if you want hot, tepid or cold, if you want a lot of froth or very little. There is even a version with no froth at all, which contradicts the very idea of cappuccino. When I remarked to a friend that this last version was, all told a "caffe latte" (coffee with milk) I was told indignantly that it was nothing of the kind, although I have ordered both and have still to find the difference ! Finally we come to my favourite - the "latte machiato". Those of you which have got the hang of the lingo so far will have deciphered this as being milk dashed with coffee, and so it is. This also has a myriad of variations which all depend on the temperature of the milk, its consistency and the proportion of coffee which is added.
Personally I like it "chiaro, tiepido e con tanta schiuma" (light, tepid and with lots of froth). This is where Giuseppe and Franco come into the question. Giuseppe is an artist, he froths the milk to just the right consistency and adds just a nuance of coffee. Franco, on the other hand tends to be heavy handed on the coffee and always makes it too hot to drink it all in one go, which is how I like it. Six months ago I wouldn't have known the difference between this marvellously creamy concoction and the other seventy six coffee-based beverages available in an Italian bar, I probably didn't even know it existed. What I find really frightening is that if its not done the way I want, I'm capable of sending it back - just like an Italian:-)
