My husband and I have a long history of time spent drinking Irish Coffees. Our favorite place to go when we lived in Germany was a little place in Starnberg called Cappuccino where the owner considered making Irish Coffees to be an art form. Watching him make them could hypnotize you. He had it down to a science. I watched him and I learned much. Mine aren’t as good as his. We took a picture of him making them, framed it, and gave it to him. He set up a shrine for it. Sadly, the bar is no longer there.

Another place in Munich, called Schumann’s, also treated making them as an art. They have a lineup of coffee drinks and all of them merge art and consumption. Maybe it’s just as much the setting as it is the decor and the drinks themselves. I ordered a Scotch - likely an Oban - there once and have never experienced such fanfare. They brought it over on a silver tray with a small glass of water. The waitor poured a small amount in the glass so I could taste it. I nodded, indicating I approved and he poured the rest of the amount. What would have happened if I turned it away?

Fast forward to San Francisco. I drank an Irish Coffee in an air port in California and had my first experience with a Buena Vista Irish Coffee - there’s a location in one of the terminals. The Irish Coffee was tasty, but something was missing. What? It wasn’t until I visited the Buena Vista in Fisherman’s Wharf that I realized what left me wanting. The dour bartender threw together the Irish Coffee in under thirty seconds. I swear. If I clocked it I bet my estimate isn’t far off. He used a sugar cube, plopped it in the glass, broke it up (but didn’t let it melt slowly under a kitchen torch as I am accustomed) poured the coffee in, and then placed it in front of us. Okay maybe it was more like a minute. Tasty, but something was missing.

It was the heart. The Irish Coffees I’ve had at Schumann’s and Cappuccino’s were all heart. There was a pride attached to making them. You know the coffee set out in front of you is one that the bartenders know is up to par. If it wasn’t I bet they would have started over. At Buena Vista, the bartender looked too busy or distracted to even notice or care.

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