GILES COREN - SPRING ROUND-UP
Only moments ago, wedged down the back of the big flowery sofa (which I really must get around to re-upholstering), I found the loyalty card for Caffè Vergnano, the only purveyor of food or drink in the world past whose premises I am truly unable to walk without entering. I’ve been meaning to write about it for months, years, but it just got forgotten under all the clutter.
It’s just a coffee shop on Charing Cross Road, on the east side as you walk down towards Trafalgar Square, but it happens to sell the best coffee I’ve ever drunk, anywhere. The espresso machine itself is an astonishing thing – an Elektra Belle Epoque – which looks like Flash Gordon must have crash-landed in it here, many aeons ago.
To watch the guy raising the cup to eye level to leak, ever so slowly, the frothed milk from jug into coffee so that it rises with a perfect rosetta to the rim, and then see him print “1882” on the rich surface with chocolate is to witness a rare devotion. But a simple espresso served on a pewter tray with a small bitter chocolate and a glass of cold water (to make each mouthful of coffee as rousing as the first) is perhaps a purer expression of the spirit of the bean. Go, for the Lord’s sake. Travel whatever hundreds of miles you must, just for a cup of coffee. It’s worth it. And double worth it. Giles Coren, Giles Coren,
17/11/2011