â€œWhat can I get you?â€ she asks – the shot-puller’s equivalent of â€œyour move, pardner.â€
â€œA cappuccino, please,â€ I reply – the espresso lover’s equivalent of â€œdrawâ€
Ah, the cappuccino. It will quickly reveal with this Kaffitar place on the Laugavegur in Reykjavik is all about. There’s no sugar or syrup or fancy ingredients to hide behind. This is no double-mocha-latte-pumpkin-spiced frappe with sprinkles and extra whipped cream. Just espresso shots, milk and a bit of steam. And every smart barista knows it.
It took a few minutes for my cappuccino to emerge. Between the crowd and the care, that’s a good sign. Then I took a look: It was a wet cappuccino, which I prefer to the â€œdryâ€ variety capped by about two inches of airy foam. Here, I saw a nice, dense microfoam.
I took a careful sip. The temperature? Perfect. Hot, but ready to drink right then and there. No trace of bitterness from over-roasted beans or nuclear-hot water.
There’s more to a cafe than just even the espresso drink, though. Kaffitar was filled to the gills, locals, travelers and tourists alike. Some pecked on laptops. Some Â read. Some talked to a friend. Others struck up conversations they didn’t know a few minutes ago.
We spent several days in Reykjavik, and we had to explore the other cafes. There’s no excuse for marching back to the same place. But Kaffitar set the standard. Some espresso drinks came close – but they couldn’t quite match the barista skills on display at Kaffitar. Some actually bested it in atmosphere: Cafe Rot is about as friendly as it gets, especially when the World Cup is being shown on a big-screen TV in the basement. The desserts at Sufistinn were spectacular.
But overall, Kaffitar is the one I’d bring home with me if I could magically transplant it walking distance from my house.
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