Espress Yourself

On a small section of Sixth Avenue, tucked away behind the rows of scaffolding between 56th and 57th Street, there is a door. Or rather, a portal. A portal leading to a world of taste, refinement, and all that is good about Western civilization. This world is called Italy. At Zibetto’s ordering coffee is a simple, one-word procedure: “caffe”. The terms “tall”, “half-caf” and “pumpkin spice caramel latte” do not register with its strict baristas (for anyone requiring such things there’s a you-know-what directly opposite). The place is dominated by a long bar, around which a hoard of attractive people shout their orders and exchange cash. At $2 for an espresso it is a slight indulgence, but well worth it simply to recall the experience of drinking from a real coffee cup, and more so for the heart-warming knowledge that there is hope in this mediocrity-embracing world, at least as far as coffee is concerned.

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