Reporting from Milan, Italy — The nonchalant artists behind the counter serve up one mini-masterpiece after another. But you won't find Il Caffe in any Milan guidebooks.
Not many tourists wander down this little side street by the block-long concrete hulk of the Palace of Justice. A dozen tables, the smell of pastry, an air of caffeinated intrigue. Flocks of prosecutors, cops, defendants, lawyers, journalists and bureaucrats drink espresso standing at the counter, Italian-style, all day. Banter mixes with the hiss of steam and clatter of cups.
And the coffee, not surprisingly, is great. You know it as soon as you see the golden froth on top. Not too hot, not too bitter, not too sweet. The cup is appropriately small. The jolt lingers and invites another.
There are countless Il Caffes across Italy. You find good coffee even in the dingiest gas station. The real quest begins when a globe-trotting espresso addict leaves Italy and ventures out into the world.
As far as the immediate neighborhood is concerned, the quality declines only a bit in Spain. Plus you discover fun variations. On winter mornings in the countryside, laborers and gray-mustached veterans of the paramilitary Guardia Civil gather in noisy bars (is there a quiet bar in Spain?) to fortify themselves with a carajillo: coffee with a shot of cognac.
North of the Pyrenees, French wine and cuisine deserve their fame. But the coffee? Ask an Italian cop whose years of pursuing desperadoes -- all-night stakeouts, marathon interrogations -- across Europe have been fueled by vats of the stuff.
He's an avid Francophile who visits every chance he gets. But he grimaces elegantly. "Puagh. The French don't know how to make coffee. Acqua sporca (dirty water)."
Cue Gallic indignation. Only one man's opinion, of course. Other experts are more approving. They say the trick is to request "bien serré (very tight)," and make a crushing motion with thumb and fingers. But espresso purists regard French coffee as watery and bitter: somehow strong and weak at the same time.
In the spirit of comparison and contrast, here's a modest, impressionistic and unscientific review of some coffee-related places and experiences.
London
