God In A Cup
November 18, 2011The world can be divided into two camps - those who drink tea and those who drink coffee.
I grew up in a country where tea is most definitely the preferred beverage.
But although there is no doubt that on a damp, gray day in England nothing beats a cup of strong dark brew, in Berlin - where you couldn’t get a decent cuppa to save your life - I have become an ardent coffee drinker.
And to be honest nothing quite beats the smell of freshly brewed coffee now. It is simply heavenly.
According to those in the know, a perfect coffee is when you can "see God in the cup."
Your chances of seeing God in a cup in the German capital used to be slim. A coffee either meant a cup of thin black liquid served with milk on the side, or a milky coffee ("Milchkaffee") in a bowl that you could slurp for hours while reading the daily papers. If you were lucky, you would get a cookie too.
If you were really sophisticated, you might order an Espresso after a meal and it would come with a piece of chocolate and a glass of water. This was a small miracle in Germany where ordering a glass of tap water in a restaurant is tantamount to stripping naked and dancing on the tables.
Cappuccino or Wiener Melange?
These days, however, Berlin is positively bouncing off the walls with coffee.
If you order a Cappuccino at Bar Vereinszimmer / Lo Spezio in Kreuzberg and close your eyes, you will be transported back to that provincial town you spent the summer in within seconds.
Perfetto!
At Röststätte in Mitte you can get a lovely Espresso, buy all kinds of coffee-related ingredients, and get advice on how to make a perfect cup at home.
While sipping a super smooth Espresso made with freshly-roasted beans at my favorite nut shop in Neukölln, the Palestinian owner even gave me precise instructions on how to make an excellent Arabic coffee with cardamom.
But coffee always tastes better when made by someone else, away from home. In a cafe, where you can linger for hours, reading a magazine or writing your next novel, the experience is enhanced.
At Café Einstein in Charlottenburg - an institution since the 1920s - you might fleetingly imagine you were in Vienna. It's the perfect spot for acting out fantasies of becoming the next Freud or Wittgenstein.
But if you really want an unbeatable Wiener Melange, I recommend the Fiaker Kaffeerösterei in the leafy neighborhood of Moabit. On the day I trekked out there and spent several hours basking in the lovely smell, a middle-aged man sat reading in a corner, some elderly women gossiped while taking dainty bites from a selection of calorie-ridden cakes, and a group of schoolgirls knocked down Latte Macchiatos like there was no tomorrow.
The Third Wave
For Berlin's new baristas (the coffee bartenders), a Latte Macchiato - so beloved of yuppie types in Mitte - is an aberration.
More often than not they'll try to convince you to order something else or slip you a different drink in the hope you won't notice. These discerning types are representatives of what is known as the Third Wave of Coffee that followed the Starbucks fashion of flavored Grande Lattes, with any kind of milk (skimmed, lactose-free or soy) to suit whatever neurotic taste.
Not only are Lattes out, but so are blends.
Third Wave Coffee is all about single origin, higher-quality beans and lighter roasts. Arguably, the trend started in America, but is also common in Australia. And as the guys at Bonanza Coffee Heroes in Prenzlauer Berg point out, the Third Wave takes fair trade a step further to direct trade - building up stronger relationships between coffee growers, roasters and consumers.
Bonanza Coffee Heroes were the first to bring the Third Wave to Berlin and I am so grateful that they opened up shop here.
Who cares that they don't do decaf or skinny milk? Their Flat White is simply to die for!
A Flat White is about the most standard form of coffee and cream you can get in Australia, but it is a perfect mix of microfoam and pure black liquid gold.
The only other coffee place in Berlin I don't mind waiting is Double Eye in Schöneberg.
They don't roast their own beans but the drinks they make are divine. The "Galao" will take you to Lisbon and you will swoon. It is one of the loveliest concoctions you can imagine, neither bitter nor sweet, neither too strong nor bland - just plain delicious.
Further proof of the baristas' impressive skills is that they can even make you a soy coffee taste halfway decent.
Now that's a feat!
An elephant chases its tail
But my favorite café in Berlin right now has to be Five Elephant in Kreuzberg - for a number of reasons.
First, it is in walking distance from my home (as opposed to all the other cafés). Second, the New York Cheesecake is the best this side of the Atlantic. And third, the story behind the name is delightful. They say an elephant named Five lost his tail and chased it across all five continents, while picking coffee to pay his way.
Then there's the coffee. It's out of this world.
I have had their Espressos, Flat Whites and "Pourovers" and have been blown away by all of them.
And there's not an ounce of pretension at this "no wave" café.
"Who are we to say what people should drink?" asks the owner Kris.
If people want decaf coffee, so be it. If they want soy milk, that's their prerogative.
"We're human," says Kris' wife Sophie.
And what a refreshing admission it is in this town of hipsters!
But I'm all jittery and caffeined-out right now, so I plan to return to the camp of tea drinkers for a while - but I know the withdrawal symptoms will kick in soon and I'll be crawling my way back to one of my favorite cafés for a glimpse of God in a cup.
Editor: Zulfikar Abbany