Illicit Latté: The Rooster
James Taylor is wailing over his guitar. The steam is whooshing through the nozzle to warm the milk. The heads around me are leaning forward to read books and newspapers or to focus on laptops. The pre-nine a.m. crowd is now gone, and Rooster is quiet. A woman I do not know is now singing...
Illicit Latte: Holts Coffee Bar
Is it the intense, nut-free dark chocolate brownie with the firm icing that I am eating? Or is it the beautifully composed woman with a strawberry tart and designer clothes, who sits down beside me after spending longer than politeness requires to look at me. She begins rapid movements of stuffing forkfuls of strawberry and...
Illicit Latte: Cafe Diplomatico
Sitting in the afternoon at Table 45 outside at Café Diplomatico under an ad for a major American beer, I am watching life at College and Clinton. (The table number is conveniently marked in large red numbers on the table for servers who become lost.)
The Illicit Latte – Manic Coffee
The sound of the City drifts into the Café through the door that often does not close. I sip an excellent latte, and I pick off a bit of the crispy top of the berry muffin and put it into my mouth. The air drifting in has the freshness of a cool summer morning....
The Illicit Latte – Union
A latte taken when you should be somewhere else, when you should be doing something that others consider useful, this is the best kind of latte. It is an illicit latte. When enjoying an illicit latte, Bill can’t help himself – he looks around with curiosity. In this new column, he shares those observations with...
The Illicit Latte – Crema
A latte taken when you should be somewhere else, when you should be doing something that others consider useful, this is the best kind of latte. It is an illicit latte. When enjoying an illicit latte, Bill can’t help himself – he looks around with curiosity. In this new column, he shares those observations with...
