Size Matters to The Trimethyldioxypurist
When reviewing a cafe or coffee shop, the Trimethyldioxypurist's typical modus operandi is to order a straight-up cup of good ol' American drip, nothing fancy -- a good benchmark to measure the general quality of a shop with its peers.
However, when a cafe's claim to fame is that it introduced the West Coast to espresso, it's an appropriate time to stray from the formula.
Caffe Trieste is in the heart of North Beach (609 Vallejo at Grant), but it may as well be another world. And the price of an espresso ($2.60) is pretty cheap for a virtual trip to Italy.
And -- please don't think this too hyperbolic -- it was pretty mind-blowing.
Okay, it's likely there's comparable espresso throughout North Beach, if not San Fran as a whole. In any case, this espresso was very enjoyable -- dark, thick, bitter, almost a raw sort of power. They use their own beans at Caffe Trieste, and I think a lot of the quality of the product comes down to the fact thay they control the process from start to finish, from bean to brew.
So why "mind-blowing?" It's all in the contrast between a 20-ouncer of coffee to go in a paper cup (i.e., a typical American experience) and the tiny demitasse-and-saucer of espresso as served at Caffe Trieste.
It's all in the attitude. As discussed last week, Americans too frequently use coffee as a tool for daily survival. "Bigger, faster, more of it," seems to be our mantra, and almost encapsulates American eating habits perfectly.
In this thimbleful of espresso, it's easy to see that much of the beauty of Italy lies in the attitude -- "better quality, smaller servings, and (for heaven's sake, man) take your time with it."
It would almost be cliché to cite the corollary statistics here (the Italians' longer life expectancy, better [in general] work conditions, etc). More to the point may be Italy's high density of people -- the fifth-highest country in terms of population density in the world. Lotta people around. Speaks to concepts that may be lost in America, concepts like "community," "charity," "getting to know your neighbors."
Which is perhaps why North Beach--a slice of Italy--works so well here in San Fran -- we're densely populated. We know our neighbors. We're community oriented. An opportunity to drink as the Italians do is a welcome one; despite the shared characteristics, we also get lost in the hustle and bustle of city life.
In other ways, Caffe Trieste is simply a nice place to be. Rather loud music by Frank Sinatra and his peers alternates with what can only be called "Italian Adult Contemporary." Most of the tables are tiled; the space is small- to medium-sized, though the high ceiling prevents any sort of claustrophobia. A far wall is painted; the two adjoining walls are filled with photos of dignitaries, celebrities, and others who hold importance in the eyes of the shop.
A variety of drinks, coffee and otherwise, are available besides the espresso. One benefit of traveling with Mrs. Trimethyldioxypurist was the chance to sample "Cafe Fantasia," the cocoa, sugar, and orgeat-laden nature of which invokes those American gastronomic values of indulgence while maintaining a high quality. Real whipped cream, for instance; nothing from a can here.
There are also sandwiches and other food items available, which, as usual, we did not sample, though most patrons did and seemed to enjoy them.
The only real negative thing here: All of this thinking gets in the way of drinking.
The espresso got cold.
So don't go to review the place; go to enjoy it. Tell them the Trimethyldioxypurist sent you (and then maybe explain what the hell that means). You'll be glad you did.