Espresso

Nothing quickens my pulse quite like the hum and hiss of a great espresso machine stirring to life. At the press of a button, its boiler-powered muscle can pack 135 pounds of pressure onto each square inch of grounds, which is darn "near-torture for the ground coffee bean," says Mark Prince of CoffeeGeek.com. So torture the beans, I say. Because what emerges from a perfect shot is liquid black magic, the syrupy essence of roasted java topped with a silky "crema" of natural oils, a tan coffee bloom dappled with tiger stripes.

Even the espresso machine is high-tech - a whopper of a thing, splattered with buttons, whirring menacingly when you drop in a coin, then settling into an urgent repose after delivering up its thick black product. But what did you expect to find at Philadelphia's first Internet cafe: the Hills Brothers and a hand grinder? Not at the Cyber Loft. In an office suite above a Walnut Street travel agency, just a few steps from the Old World elegance of Le Bec-Fin, Cyber Loft was on-line and for rent Tuesday, in this, the first full week of operation for the drop-in-and-compute service.

Wake up and smell the espresso. This low-cost luxury not only is packing espresso bars and coffeehouses, it has reached out to the home kitchen. But if you want to make your own espresso or cappuccino, it's important to start with learning just what these drinks are all about. Harvey Kravitz, a self-styled "certified coffeemaniac" and representative of Tutto Italiano, a firm distributing a top Italian-made commercial espresso machine, LaCimbali, offered to help. He began by emphasizing the importance of coffee to an Italian.

Joseph "Skinny Joey" Merlino stood in the doorway of his espresso bar on Passyunk Avenue, puffing on a fat cigar. As Catholic schoolgirls strolled by in plaid skirts and blue uniforms, the reputed mobster glared at two cops who sat in a marked patrol car parked across the street. The cops stared right back. Merlino, 33, doesn't think much of the extra police detail that's been assigned to guard his Avenue Cafe up to 12 hours a day, seven days a week, since Dante "Peanuts" Veasey stopped by for a chat two weeks ago. "That's where your tax dollars go," Merlino said.

It used to be that you'd go out to a Phillies game, grab a couple of hot dogs, maybe munch a bag of peanuts and knock down a few beers. Now, that Philadelphia tradition may be going the way of the old Shibe Park. Fans can now sip an espresso, instead of that fine domestic brew. One of the Veterans Stadium vendors has set up an espresso cart, selling specialty coffees such as caffe latte and cappuccino made from higher-quality beans. What's more shocking is that Phillies fans are buying them.

If most normal humans are made up of nearly 90 percent water, I am at the very least 80 percent coffee. Not only do I drink it from morning to night, loving the hot black spark perking through my body and mind, I've come to savor its myriad roasty flavors, the manual craft of brewing gear, and especially its culture of rituals - which can be oh-so-hard to change. Like most discerning Philadelphians, my ritual for more than a decade has been a cup of La Colombe, the city's "house brew," judging by the number of restaurants and cafes that have a pot of Corsica or shot of Nizza at the ready.

Howard Berkson won't fill your tires, and he won't clean your windshield. But from his cart between the gasoline pumps at a BP station, next to a display of Quality motor oils, he'll concoct a caffe latte that should keep your motor revving until lunchtime. Yup, this is Seattle, once known for its quality of life, rainy skies and the Space Needle. Now famous for - more than anything else - upscale coffee drinks. Here, in the city that proclaims itself the specialty coffee capital of the United States, one is never more than a couple of blocks from a cup of espresso or its milkier alternatives: caffe mocha, caffe latte or cappuccino.

When singles in the '90s talk of stopping by the bar for a drink, it is ever more likely that they'll be taking their refreshment at a neighborhood espresso bar. Or at a coffeehouse. Once hippie havens, these nightspots are coming back as mainstream meeting places. Even office cafeterias are going gourmet with the addition of espresso bars, both fixed and mobile. Gourmet coffees, after all, are one of life's more affordable luxuries, not to mention stimulants. Among other things, these centers for nonalcoholic libation may be spurring a return to one-on-one conversation.

Not so long ago, Philadelphians who loved cappuccino or espresso could find a cup only at the end of a meal in an Italian restaurant. Now it's possible to grab a cafe latte on the run, to take a double espresso back to the office, to make cappuccino at home, to linger over a flavored coffee and listen to music. Coffeehouses, cafes and takeout coffee places with broader horizons than "Regular or decaf?" have sprung up throughout the city, cheerfully filling our craving for more sophisticated forms of java.

Seattle is to coffee what Philadelphia is to soft pretzels, what Baltimore is to crab cakes, what Boston is to baked beans. In other words, if you live in Seattle and want to make a foray into the food business, you simply do not open an espresso stand. "It's a mature market," said Marian Ando. "They have drive-through coffee bars - maybe three of them on one stretch of road. Two of the owners just got into a fistfight. " Ando, avoiding confrontation, has brought the Seattle specialty-coffee-bar concept east.

THAT BIG GUY holding forth at the cafes and coffee shops of Center City, sipping his espresso, laughing it up with friends, was a former cop who didn't hesitate to kick in a door with the police narcotics strike force. From his friendly demeanor, you wouldn't know that Michael G. Brinkley had that kind of aggression in him, but when you're a cop chasing a suspect you don't let a door get in your way. Mike Brinkley, a 15-year veteran of the force, onetime chaplain of the Guardian Civic League, and a passionate sports-car buff, died suddenly March 16. He was 52 and lived in West Philadelphia.

Third Wave: First came Maxwell House and Folgers, then the quality jump of "second wave" companies like Starbucks (and La Colombe). Third Wavers have upped the ante more, with single-origin beans sourced directly (at great expense) from individual farmers, lighter roasts, extra-intense short espresso shots, and the perfomance of brewed-to-order cups.   Pour-Over Bar: Remember the Chemex and Melitta drip? Third Wavers have perfected this primitive method by grinding beans to order for every cup, and carefully steeping with precision streams of water heated digitally to just over 200-degrees, and poured onto a cone filter (usually a Hario V60)

If most normal humans are made up of nearly 90 percent water, I am at the very least 80 percent coffee. Not only do I drink it from morning to night, loving the hot black spark perking through my body and mind, I've come to savor its myriad roasty flavors, the manual craft of brewing gear, and especially its culture of rituals - which can be oh-so-hard to change. Like most discerning Philadelphians, my ritual for more than a decade has been a cup of La Colombe, the city's "house brew," judging by the number of restaurants and cafes that have a pot of Corsica or shot of Nizza at the ready.

Here is an excerpt from Craig LaBan's online chat: Craig LaBan: I want to comment on the arrival of a relatively new brand of espresso machine to the city's coffee scene - made by Seattle's Synesso. After two separate experiences, I'm not sure I'm thrilled with it. First, my long-held nominee for the city's best espresso pull - La Colombe - is in jeopardy. They replaced the old La San Marco machines with two gleaming Synessoes. I'm told the old SM machines, rebuilt and refurbished numerous times, would occasionally electrocute the baristas.

Espresso Caramel Bars Makes 6 to 8 Servings 3. For the chocolate layer: Combine the chocolate chips and heavy cream in a heat-proof bowl and place over a pan of gently simmering water, making sure the bottom of the pan does not touch the water. Stir until the chocolate has melted and the mixture is smooth, about 3 minutes. Whisk in the espresso powder. Pour the chocolate mixture over the caramel layer and smooth the edges with a spatula. Sprinkle the top with sea salt, if using.

Esther Tabachnick Halpern, 79, of Center City, a musician who co-owned the Gilded Cage, an innovative Center City coffeehouse, died of liver failure Thursday at home. In 1956, when Mrs. Halpern and her husband, Edward, were newlyweds, they opened the Gilded Cage at 21st and Rittenhouse Streets. They sold espresso for 25 cents a cup. Ed Halpern assembled the corned beef sandwiches and Mrs. Halpern made onion soup - the first in Philadelphia to have a thick cheese crust, she told an Inquirer reporter in 1981.

I SPLIT A Starbucks espresso fudge brownie with a friend recently, and here's how we described it: "Oh, my heavenly yum!" My taste buds felt treated, but I spent too much money and way too many fat grams on that chocolate concoction. I craved a healthier version of this dessert that I could bake at home to save calories and cash. So I started tinkering with a recipe I created several years ago to amp up the chocolate and tone down the fat. If you're a calorie-conscious chocolate addict like I am, you know that portion control is key. That's why I decided to make cookies instead of brownies.

There's a fine new Italian bean brewing in the local espresso scene now that Massimo Taurisano has traded Northern Italy's Hausbrandt for the slightly darker Miscela d'Oro from Sicily at his six Academia del Caffes and his 400 wholesale clients. The recent roaster change was due to the exchange rate and Miscela's desire for a competitive East Coast presence. The result: a half-pound $10 can, a great alternative to pricier competitors. I've come to love Miscela's more robust and chocolatey brew - first served locally at Osteria.

The scene at King Street Espresso Bar in Gloucester City gave new meaning to the concept of variety show. Ernest Cipolone, 87, of Brooklawn, who has been writing poetry for 60 years, read his verses before an audience for the first time. Afterward his 12-year-old grandson, Peter Cipolone, also of Brooklawn, hoisted his accordion and led the audience in a rousing "Beer Barrel Polka. " The eclectic open-mic night June 21 was the latest event sponsored by the Gloucester City Cultural Arts and Heritage Society, a new group that aims to foster artistic expression among residents of the working-class community of 12,000 on the Delaware River.

In Villanova one day last week - one month, to be exact, after its long-delayed opening - Maia, the behemoth on the Main Line, was doing a credible, if slightly disorienting, lunch business. The interior of the restaurant(s) and market is described in old news releases as "Natural Pacific Northwest meets Scandinavian Contemporary," meant to suggest, one presumes, a clean and fresh motif, though a staffer surveying the expanse took a stab at "SoHo Loft," which is, at least, less of a mouthful.