Last week, I wrote an article about coffee and it's health benefits. I told my grandfather, who has been laid up in the hospital for the last month. He smiled, told me how much he had always liked coffee and told me to look up an email that he wrote about the Italian coffee culture nine years ago. He wrote this email in 2007 to several of his friends who found themselves enamored with the Italian culture. At the time, the retired Marine was working as a social worker at a military base in Japan. From this email, you can not only tell what a wise and intelligent person my grandfather is, but the importance of coffee; the details that go into one cup, and maybe most importantly, the people around you as you drink it:

Well here I am halfway around the world, having spent the last two months in the Far East with Marines. Currently living in a pleasant somewhat upscale Japanese hotel and enjoying the opportunity to observe local culture. You may ask does this qualify me to make an apparent unrelated comment on life in Italy? And to those of you who posses an affinity for things Italian, let me try to correct the record. I am sure that most of you would be enthused by commenting on the wonders of that sun drenched climate and the intriguing life on the Italian Boot. The beauty of the architecture, the contrasting geography, mountains to sea all within a single sighting or a short drive. Then there is that history the richness from antiquity to yesterday. The Roman Empire to the adventures of the current Prime Minister. But some of you may define the best of Italy as those cuisines. From the southern Mediterranean to the mountains of Dolomites, I know, I know; so diverse, so exciting. Many of you would say the best in the world. And who am I to argue that point? And don't forget the excitement of the language and its music. But if you think that all of the above define the pleasures of Italy you are missing the big one.
It all begins with that little brown bean that started its migration from Ethiopia to Columbia, Guatemala and as far west as Hawaii and other locations in between. Of course it's the coffee bean. So why is this little brown bean such a factor in the Italian experience? As one aging American who has lived several years in Italy I can explain. The day starts or should start with a stop at the local Bar of which there are thousands and more in any and every Italian city or village. Picture this: you stroll into a bar any bar, the operative word is stroll. Place your Euro on the bar and broadcast "un cappuccino per favore". At this point the Maestro standing behind the bar takes over. You are acknowledged with a mere glimpse an almost indistinguishable head nod. The Maestro is positioned in front of this beautiful piece of machinery with handles, levels, gages, stream hissing from its innards and the aroma of coffee so ever present. The Maestro, he or she produces this wonderful early morning experience of "cappuccino" or an "espresso". A conductor leading a philharmonic does not exhibit more style, talent or grace. His artistry is delivered with flair right in front of you in a small cup with its own saucer and spoon. Never a paper cup with a wood stick to stir. And the ritual continues, with a need for a little sweet you reach for this serious size bowl of zucchero (sugar) with its own long handled spoons to transfer the zucchero to your own cup. But remember the dance - you don't use that spoon to stir as you have been delivered one of your own. And of course you are not alone, surrounded by the citizenry of any Italian city, as interesting and beautiful as they are. They are all standing crowded around this small bar with no semblance of organization, order or concern. They place their orders with a sense of style, dignity, pizzaz there is a continual buzz of conversation and the ever-present hand movements. The Maestro continues his act pulling levers, turning valves, frothing milk and producing and endless stream of cappuccinos, cafe espresso's and anything in- between. And of course if you are seriously into the experience you will add a "corneto" to accompany your caffe, something that defines pleasure. An Italian pastry, not a bagel not a donut, not French its truly Italian.
How good is that to get the juices flowing? So my friends, I say it's the coffee. It starts the day as nothing else. Try as I might and search as I do the world wide I have yet to find and early morning experience that is as pleasant as entertaining and enriching as that first of the day cappuccino in any Italian Bar.

Last week, my article was about the health benefits of coffee, about how it's not necessarily a bad habit that needs to be quit. But my grandfather showed me that's it's not even really about the health benefits, it's about the culture and the people that swirl around that morning cup. There's something intangibly important about the ritual of having coffee with my parents in the morning or sitting down at the window with a cappuccino with my grandfather. More than the health benefits, it's the spiritual and the personal benefits that make that little brown bean so important.