Humans like consistency. It can instill respect, a sense of safety and security, or, in the case of my early morning walk to the ancient Roman wall near my apartment in San Giovanni, even awe. It always blows my mind to think that my eyes are scanning across the same exact stones and bricks that eyes from millennia past have witnessed. So I was especially moved when I discovered that there is a cafe in Rome’s center that is 16 years older than my country of birth. It’s like Antico Caffe Greco is the United State’s older brother. How’s that for a brain twister? There’s something strange and yet oddly fascinating about comparing a purveyor of coffee to a purveyor of democracy (self-proclaimed). While American’s were battling the British for their independence, Greco was serving caffeinated beverages to those in need of a little boost. While puritans were hunting down witches in Salem, Greco was serving coffee. While Blues were fighting a raging civil war against the Greys, Greco was serving coffee. Maybe the only time Greco was not serving coffee was when the Americans were helping them with their German problem. I guess we can rightfully take responsibility for that one. But then that just feels less than satisfying, especially for the hardcore patriots, because it makes America a footnote in the history of Caffe Greco, not the other way around.
You can stand at the threshold of Antico Cafe Greco and look down Via Condotti to the apartment where Keats, a visitor to the coffee shop, would rest his head in hopes of overcoming his tuberculosis. Just to the left are the famous Spanish Steps, and beyond that, a copy of an Egyptian obelisk built in Rome’s imperial era. Beyond that stands the French Academy of Rome. So many layers of history.
I recently had the opportunity to visit the cafe for the first time. I walk in the front door and pass through a series of rooms, each immaculately decorated in dark wood, warm tones, marble, and white plaster walls that arch up to high ceilings. Placed here and there are antique trinkets. The walls are covered with beautifully framed works of art and, from an ancient photograph, native American Indian chiefs watch stone-faced as sophisticated servers in starched uniforms move diligently about the cafe’s many rooms. It’s the kind of place that makes you feel important to be a customer.
The last room is the most interesting, the largest, and of course, full of history. Supposedly there is a couch that Hans Christian Andersen slept on. There’s even a piano. It’s not antique
but we can dream about who might have played a piano sitting in the same place, centuries earlier. Liszt, Wagner, maybe? Byron and Shelley were known to visit. Casanova would also stop by from time to time. Philosopher Goethe might have been seen sipping a decaf, if it was available, possibly penning one of his more optimistic passages, “Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.” Americans Mark Twain and Buffalo Bill were spotted here at least once.
Antico Caffe Greco is clearly the ultimate hipster hangout of times long past. It’s not cheap. In fact, the cafe is quite expensive. A cup of tea will cost you around 12 euros. But it’s a small price to pay for a great story to tell, especially if you’re American who is ok with the fact that your country really is the baby of the world, younger than an Italian coffee shop. The aura of the place makes it worth at least one visit. And unlike some tourist destinations, the quality of the food, drink, and service is quite good by European standards.
Full transparency, I only had a jasmine tea. It was fantastic. I’ll never know if it was the environment or the tea itself, but does it matter? Cal Fussman, writer for Esquire, and sommelier for a day at one of New York City’s most luxurious restaurants, says “The wine and the moment are inextricably linked. You can take a great moment and make a great wine 
out of it, or you can take a great wine and make a great moment out of it.”
So give it a try. Take a seat near where Hans Christian Andersen dreamed. Order a glass of wine, or a chicken salad tramanzino. My friend tells me they are especially good. In fact, all Caffe Greco’s tramanzinos are fresh and made from scratch, unlike what you’ll find at most cafes in Rome. The pastries and chocolates are all superior. You will get the royal treatment. You’ll feel as though you were Buffalo Bill or Virginia Woolf. And maybe it will just be the best glass of wine, or handmade tramezino you’ll ever have in your life. You’re welcome.
