-
Authors
-
Recent Posts
Others
- 5B4 Photography And Books
- Artworld Salon
- Bruce Silverstein
- Dispatches
- DLK Collection
- Edward Winkleman
- Geoff Manaugh
- George Bush
- Hasted Hunt Kraeutler
- Hilobrow
- James Danziger
- Jen Bekman
- Jim Kempner
- Joerg Colberg
- Jon Swift
- Lauren Greenfield
- Little Brown Mushroom
- Magnum
- Michael Mazzeo
- Paul Kasmin
- Rob Haggart
- Sign And Sight
- Steve Jobs
- Susan Sheehan
- The PhotoBook
- Yancey Richardson
- Yossi Milo
- Zoe Strauss
Archives
- July 2010
- June 2010
- May 2010
- April 2010
- March 2010
- February 2010
- January 2010
- December 2009
- November 2009
- October 2009
- September 2009
- August 2009
- July 2009
- June 2009
- May 2009
- April 2009
- March 2009
- February 2009
- January 2009
- December 2008
- November 2008
- October 2008
- September 2008
- August 2008
- July 2008
- June 2008
- May 2008
- April 2008
- March 2008
- February 2008
- January 2008
- December 2007
- November 2007
- October 2007
- September 2007
- August 2007
- July 2007
- June 2007
- May 2007
- April 2007
- March 2007
- February 2007
- January 2007
- December 2006
Real Latte Macchiato In Manhattan, By Mara L.
My last entry to this blog ended on a somewhat unhappy note regarding the vexed issue of good coffee in New York. In my first months here, I used to cite one of Jens’ expatriate friends as if he had discovered one of the first principles of reality: That after every trip to Europe, it takes roughly two months to sufficiently forget the taste of real coffee, in order to then be able to enjoy American coffee. But I’ve come around—he’s not right! There is good coffee to be found.
Of course, good coffee needs more than imported Italian espresso and an ok machine. It needs, first of all, good water, which, unfortunately, seems to be very much a matter of what one’s used to. So here’s a point where a tiny bit of open-mindedness doesn’t hurt, or rather, it really doesn’t help to get caught up in quest for water that tastes like home. The pragmatic way out is to go for latte. Which of course brings up issues about milk. However, somewhat more resolvable ones. Of course, there’s the Starbucks type of latte, and it should (grudgingly) be admitted that they do a quite good job. But what about atmosphere? Our task is genuine latte in the right kind of setting, i.e., a real café––as opposed to ‘room where Americans sit with their laptops and large paper cups’.
I’ve only found one such place in all of Manhattan: The Sant Ambroeus on 1000 Madison Avenue (near 78th Street). It’s totally overpriced and you should better wear a fur coat when you’re standing at the bar. And, of course, speak Italian. Don’t go in the touristy season, when all kinds of Europeans come, desperate for something they recognize as a café. On dreary, rainy days in the middle of the week, that’s when you’ll be alone with rich Italians. If you can take the disapproving stares at whatever you’ll be wearing that falls short of high fashion (the elegant, understated Italian kind, not the flashy, tight-jeans-high-heels U.S. kind), you will happily drink creamy (meaning: full “fat” milk which is probably flown in on a daily basis, hence the prices, and hence a bit of a bad feeling regarding global warming), strong and delicious latte macchiato.
Coming up: Fresh Vegetables, Or: Giving Up On ‘Green Values’