The Roman barista-writer's first morning coffee and last evening coffee.
If in Trieste espresso coffee is the 'Nero', or 'Nero in B', for those who want it served in a glass rather than the classic cup, in the bars of Venice you will certainly have heard people ask for a 'gig'. In Genoa, the macchiato coffee is a 'cappuccino alla genovese', the best-loved and best-known café from Salento is ice coffee, while in Cuneo, a good coffee is only a 'Bicerin', i.e. with chocolate, milk cream and gianduiotto liqueur.
And then there is the flax coffee barthe one in Rome, the one managed by the bartender-writer Diego Galdino. Yes, we know it well, that of coffee is a real universe. A centuries-long history, from the whistles of the kettles that heated the water to pour over the coffee powder, ground with effort, to the much-loved moka, ending with the comfortable and very modern machines that many of us have in our kitchens today. That of coffee at the bar is another world again.
A magical world, even more enchanted since Diego Galdino turned his neighbourhood bar into one of the protagonists of his novels, along with his beloved Rome.
Not only that; ever since that café has actually become for lovers of his romance novels the place where they can enter those stories told by the barman, meet him, get an autograph and... have a good coffee made.
Called the Italian Nicolas Sparks, Diego Galdino met with success in 2013 with 'First coffee in the morning'Three more novels followed, also published by Sperling & Kupfer, up to 'The Last Coffee of the Evening' of 2018.
And now, a new adventure with 'White Forest', a historic estate on the Amalfi coast capable of changing people's lives, of love speaking.
Also published in Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Poland, Bulgaria, Serbia, Spain and South America, certainly many have wondered why Diego Galdino, after his publishing success, did not abandon his job as a barista, why he wakes up at five o'clock every day and spends his days making coffee.
The point is precisely him, the coffee, and it is about that coffee that I let myself be told.
Diego, you are born a bartender and become a writer. Which of the two professions could you never give up?
My mother used to give me milk on that same counter where I now make coffee, I learned to walk in a bar, I slept in a cot placed behind the till. I was born a barista in the true sense of the word. The bar is a place where I have lived all my life and it is the place that gave the 'la' to everything I write, because 'Il primo caffè del mattino' is the novel that has given me national and international success.
So I can't separate the two, I wouldn't give up either. It's great to give a place to all the people who read me, a place where they can always find me. I will remain a bartender-writer!
In recent years, the world of kitchens, of restaurants, has taken centre stage. But the bar, what role does it play in people's lives?
The café is a microcosm where many small planets revolve around the counter, which acts as the 'sun'. People warm themselves around the counter, with coffee, with the human warmth of the
people who work behind it and almost become friends, confidants, family members. However, this only happens in neighbourhood bars, as mine is.
In the neighbourhood café everyone knows each other and the barman, when Antonio the plumber enters, knows he will have a macchiato coffee, because he makes it for him every day. In passing cafés one does not
creates this magic. Just think of station bars, where people come in and out who the bartender will never see again. The neighbourhood bar, on the other hand, becomes almost a second home: people go there to treat themselves, to meet friends and have a chat.
In 'Il primo caffè del mattino' you played with coffees, as if they were signs of the zodiac, and recounted the characteristics of people who drink a certain type of coffee...
Yes! For example, I associate macchiato coffee with the indecisive, those who do not know whether they want a coffee or a cappuccino and in the end opt for a macchiato.
Bitter ristretto coffee is the coffee of those people who never have to ask, those with a strong and decisive character, always convinced of themselves and what they do.
Then there are the Nutella coffee lovers, who need to go back to their childhood days, when they climbed up on the sideboard, opened the Nutella jar and quickly slipped two fingers into it to eat it quickly and not get caught.
But it's just a game. The barista is yes a bit of a psychologist, but it's really hard to tell someone's personality based on the coffee they prefer! Everyone has their own taste, for me for
example, the real coffee remains espresso, whether long or macchiato, but necessarily served in a hot cup.
Speaking of real coffee: mochas, pods, capsules... Where is the real poetry?
In your mother's moka, which when you woke up on Sunday morning emanated that incredible smell throughout the house. I think in the end that's what we all go back to in our memories when we think of coffee. The espresso and cappuccino at the bar then, those are something else.
I started with a small journey into the universe of Italian coffees. I close the journey with Diego Galdino, in his bar, where one can breathe in all the Roman spirit possible. "Espresso coffee brings everyone together - laughs -, black, Genovese or whatever. Then perhaps the most traditional Italian coffee is Neapolitan, because, against the electric cup warmer, a
Naples many cafés still keep the cups soaking in boiling water, so then the coffee sticks, remains full-bodied and retains its aroma much more'.
He would spend hours talking to you about coffee, Diego Galdinowith the same passion and romanticism that we recognise in his novels and that makes him still love print and real contact with people.
I leave him there, behind his counter; a reader enters and hands him a novel to sign, then they take a photo and Diego, while preparing three coffees, introduces Antonio to him
the plumber...
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