I also loved the ceremony surrounding it. I loved the size of the cups. I loved the clink of the cups against saucers. I loved that everyone stopped by cafes early in the morning, drank their cappuccino in three swigs and then continued on to work or where their day might take them.
I wanted to buy the cappuccino cups that I’d seen in every cafe, but no one would sell them to us and we weren’t quite sure where to go to get them.
The cups were not sold outside of Italy, but, the place was down the street form where my sister lived.
So when I went to visit her again, we walked to the address from the web site, and like most things Italian, we weren’t sure if we had the right place, the right time, and if we were allowed inside.
Sure enough, we’d found the place. The good people at Dini Caffè invited us in. Showed us the cups and we found out we were in the very spot where they made their coffee and asked if we wanted a tour.
The building was four stories, in a thin building. Not very large, but impressive and very hands on. Dini Caffe is a small operation and they like it that way, what with all the overhead for shipping and such. It was kind of the mom and pop operation of Italian espresso.
Once we reached the top floor where the smell of unpacked beans made me heady with delight, they asked if we’d like a cappuccino made with their coffee.
Do you really need to ask twice?