When I think about coffee, the word that springs to my mind is “intimacy”. And I have several good reasons for this: I have had a coffee stain (birthmark) under my arm since I was born; my great grandmother used to roast her weekly dose in the kitchen and I could tell with my little girl nose whether she had made a mistake in the ritual formula in a Trieste of the past, be it the blend, the weather or… her mood. And the last, but not least, element of intimacy is, that I have spent a “great deal of time” in a company that has made coffee its mission. A cup of coffee refreshes and makes you feel great like enjoying art. This is official statement. And it is precisely because of this “great deal of time” that I have come to realize that this personal sense of closeness that I feel is actually something broader, something global, because it involves not only the product but also the place and the memories, and the moment they are combined together to become a creative mix generating emotions, attitudes, words and projects. A sort of complex encyclopedic universe always centered around the same thing: coffee. I may be wrong, but since the first coffee houses were established for its consumption in southern Arabia and in the early 1500s consumption began to spread to the cities of Cairo and the Mecca, as far as Constantinople, the beverage’s creative spirit proved to be one of the guiding values of “culture”.
And if the names of the Coffee House in London, the Procope in Paris, the Florian in Venice and the Pedrocchi in Padua are not enough, then I could add that other places, bars and cafes, which have been revamped today for contemporary needs of consumption, have in no way at all changed their response to the expectations of all those of us who wish to experience unique moments. In illywords we’ll be coffeetelling, but not merely to talk about it, but because coffee stories, with their emotions and curiosities, can speak for themselves.