A world full of coffee shops flooded with milk. Where there are only blonde, medium and dark roasts, the dairy selection boasts cow milk, soy milk, almond milk, cashew milk, oat milk, hemp milk, and coconut milk. Where coffee can be prepared as a pour over, espresso, in the pot, or cold brew, milk comes steamed and frothed, creamy or powdered, condensed in a can (if you’re Vietnamese) or curdled into cheese (if you’re Swedish), and even churned into butter. Our coffee is drowning in dairy.
Drowning indeed, so let the coffee get its revenge. In the great Italian tradition of la vendetta one unsuspecting café offering turns the tables: the affogato. An icon of the gleaming, steam-punk age of espresso behemoths, the name literally translated as ‘drowned.’ This time, the dairy drowns in the coffee.
Simply put, the affogato is a scoop of ice cream, gelado, or fior di latte (a simple cheese made from fresh milk), assaulted by a hot and bitter pour of espresso. Some serve it with a swirl of amaretto while others make it more youthful by subbing the coffee for hot chocolate. More traditionally, a swallow of strong grappa is mixed in as a version of an espresso correto with the addition of ice cream.
The affogato is best served with little ceremony–honoring its two ingredients without distracting from the point–-the contrast within the drink before you. A drinkable pun on the term bittersweet. A dichotomy between hot and cold. The states of matter clashing in liquid and solid. The yin and the yang of vanilla and coffee. A dietician’s qualm between drink and dessert. Your daily cup of coffee is transformed with a scoop of ice cream.
And after the meal, the waiter asks, “Any coffee or dessert?” Someone orders both and the waiter makes a delicious blunder. Espresso drools from some shining stainless steel tower that must have come from Italy during times of historical migration. A plop of ice cream dragged from a display cooler with a belly of curved glass and chrome detailing. In a mug, any old mug, the two duel it out.
The heat of the fresh espresso nearly sublimates the ice cream into an airy, white foam. The cool core of the scoop dissipates the coffee’s scald. Each bitter molecule donning a sweet jacket to insulate itself from the insulting cold. The creamy dairy runs out in miniscule deltas of muddy milk. Black and white, hot and cold, bitter and sweet vying for supremacy as you sip and spoon ambiguous states of matter into your hungry mouth. After a bit, homogeneity. A room temperature beige drink with something reminiscent of the fluff of ice cream and the bite of espresso.
Coffee taken with milk and sugar is not so different from coffee taken with ice cream. The difference is the drama present in the affogato which elevates it from the mundane cup of joe.
New Mexico’s most famous cup of coffee contains the flavoring of piñon nut. The coffee is a modern favorite, but the Southwest has a long history of mixing coffee with local products, or even replacing coffee with roasted seeds, roots, and nuts. While piñon is a unique flavor, it is likely the Navajo invented this concoction after the US government introduced them to coffee.
Walking around some of Boston’s suburbs, it is curious to notice that some corner stores are called spas. They do not offer spa treatments, but sell tobacco and lottery tickets. This usage of the word is hyper-local to Boston and has deep history in the city’s soda fountain history.
There is great diversity in wine press design and use across space and throughout time. The most primitive forms of pressing, by foot for example, are still in use today. Some technological innovations improved grape juice yield throughout history. Yet assuming that more efficient presses made older methods obsolete ignores the truth. Wine is a marriage of both tradition and technology.
Simple sugars from fruit juices can spontaneously ferment without the addition of anything thanks to natural yeasts in the air. Starchier foods that we produce in much larger quantities, however, will not ferment without some help. Before specific yeasts and bacteria were isolated and reproduced in fermentations that were able to break down starches into simple sugars, saliva was our only option.
