I like a good cappuccino just like the next guy.  Don't get me wrong, a little frothy steamed milk can be quite the rich creamy kind of wake-me-up I need after a night of debauchery.  That being said, I think we need to stick to some rules:

1. There is no such thing as a "grande - extra hot - non-fat - caramel - latte".  No.  There is not.
2. Almost any variation of espresso with milk should be considered a before noon drink.  This is how it is done in Italy and this is how I do it.  One reason is that after lunch or dinner who wants all of that hot milk on top of a big meal?  Eh?
3. The exception?  Well, in my opinion, the exception is a cafe au lait.  Now, that is not exactly an espresso drink, is it?  In fact, a good cafe au lait is done with dark French Roast coffee plus Chickory root.  For example, Community Coffee and Chickory or better yet the real New Orleans Cafe Du Monde will do the trick!

Now, lets talk about cafe Mocha for a minute.  While I may be an espresso purist, I just can't resist a good cafe mocha.  The taste of chocolate and coffee is really a fantastic blend of happiness.  I like them hot in the winter and iced in the summer.  The extra added bonus is that if you go to a cafe that has very mediocre or even bad espresso, you mix it with chocolate and milk and all is well - most of the time.

As for cappuccino, well I've had a few.  The best I can remember were the ones I would have each and every morning with a fresh crossaint at a little cafe in Riomaggiore. 


Mmmmm.  I can taste it now.  It didn't hurt that the cute Italian girl was there each and every morning to serve them, but that is in addition to the simply perfect little cup of morning that she served up.  I will not claim to know how to make the perfect cappuccino.  In fact, I am still working on the perfect espresso.  I may never get there.  In the meantime, try not to go to Starbucks, eh?

Ciao.

Lets be honest, not everyone at a coffeehouse late at night has been drinking coffee.  There are many tales, my friends, many tales indeed: of late nights and colored sugar, of window seats in packed coffee bars, of girls I long ago forgot and parties in apartments I may never live again.  These are all the spoils of the night owl.  The territory of the late night espresso bar cowboys.  The Pik-me-up will need to wait for another time, but let me just give you a taste of what it was like to live the life fantastic in Los Angeles circa 1989.

Cafes are a great place to read, sit and contemplate during the day, but at night, it is an entirely different crowd that fills the cafe.  For one thing, most of us are drunk as a skunk.  The bars have either closed or will soon.  People pack the coffeehouse because, well, because they just aren't done yet.  Sweet cappuccino drinks with almond syrup or mint mochas are made.  There is much smoking.  There is much talking and it is good.

Where does this happen?  Why wasn't I invited?  Well, it used to happen all of the time in LA.  The cafe was the cool down period.  You would go to the Mad Hatter's on Pico Blvd. for example, only if you were smashed. Not a fun place in the daylight, but really groovy with the lights out.  You would go to Jabberjaw's to see L7.  You would find yourself in the dark a creepy Bourgeois Pig after a night of who knows what and where.  And you would find yourself back at the Pik-me-up after a night of Ska or Gangster Bop next door at the King King on 6th and La Brea.


The cafe is part of the scene, but not part of the boozing.   Too much crazy gets more grounded most of the time.  You go there to meet up with your friends after the music and the madness and the drink.  Many of the places I will talk about on this blog are no longer with us, but in their day, they were often busier at night than during the day.  I actually kind of liked that aspect of the cafe.  I like to relax and work during the day, but at night all of the people and the noise and smoke give the place a vibe that really settles the soul after a night of indulgence.  Relax. 

Anything worth while in life requires a little suffering.  A good hand drawn espresso is a zen-like experience which requires a skilled barrista who knowns his/her machine intimately.  This posting is by no means meant to be a history of espresso machines or the art of the pull.  My purpose is to describe what it is that attracts me to the mysterious "hand-pull" machines and their lovely golden eagles.

To begin, lets travel back to NYC in the early part of the 20th century.  There, at cafe Reggio in fact, you will find one of the first hand-pull machines in the US, a beautiful La Pavoni machine that uses a pulling force to draw water through the coffee.

As you may know, most modern machines, both industrial and the ones for home use, extract the flavors of the espresso using a pump to push the water through the grinds.  The mechanical machines, like the Pavoni, use the physical force of the barrista to draw the water through the grinds.  Most often this is done with a large lever handle like on this beautiful copper Gaggia machine: