By Hoda Emam
I experienced the best cappuccino ever at Piazza Navona. | Photo by Hoda Emam.
ROME — We’ve been here for several days now and I’ve yet to see a twenty something in Italy walking with a cup of coffee in hand. It seems that for Italians, drinking a coffee is not a to-go culture but a two-minute business. There is no sipping on a 20-ounce cup of Joe all afternoon. Rather in most cases the experience consists of walking up to the counter at a Trattoria, placing your order and listening to the whizzing and crackling noises from the cappuccino machine. Within seconds, a tiny cup of espresso sits steaming before me. Little conversation is made with my neighbor or server behind the bar. In fact, the waiter many times waits in front of me peering into my eyes as a sign for me to hurry so that he can tend to the next customer.
In the past few days I have learned not to sip on my cappuccino, but rather, draw back the warm drink, pay the usual 2 Euro and be on my way.
The taste of the coffee is out of this world and my taste buds want to relish every bit of the flavor. I’m not sure if it’s the experience of drinking coffee in what seems to be an Alice and Wonderland style teacup or, perhaps, the silky smooth taste of the thick creamy foam swirled on top. Nevertheless, if there is one thing I am taking back to the U.S., it’s the reminder of the delightful taste of Italian cappuccino, in addition to two boxes of the finest coffee from a local grocery store. Somehow, I don’t think it will taste as good back home. There’s something about Rome that makes the coffee better.
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