The most conspicuous ritual in Parisian life is celebrated every time someone orders a café. The French coffee ceremony - the way a cup is ordered (Un cafe s’il vous plait), served and drunk – is probably unchanged since the first coffee house, Le Procope, opened here in 1689.
Coffee making tools have changed of course. Spent grounds no longer form a layer of sludge at the bottom of the cup and the crema is thicker from a machine than from a Turkish cezve. But the heady, nuanced flavor of Arabica beans remains true to the past.
The All-American coffee house is a newcomer, conceived in Seattle during the 1970’s, and named Starbucks for the crazed Captain Ahab’s first mate in Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. For 30 years, Starbucks stores multiplied, and the company morphed into Moby Dick himself wiping out scores of independent coffee shops but leaving America’s dishwater coffee culture pretty much untouched in its wake.
Then Starbucks (aka Moby Dick) swam over to Europe. Its first Paris store opened eight years ago. There are now 35 Starbucks located around the city including two on Blvd de Clichy bordering Montmartre. A casual observer peering into any of these busy shops would think that the American coffee house concept has succeeded here. In fact, the opposite is true.
Starbucks has yet to turn a profit in Europe. It’s failure to do so indicates how little it has adapted to French culture. Take the size of the coffee servings. The ritual café in Paris is espresso, served in a demi-tasse cup. Taller drinks, café au lait (coffee and milk) and café allonge (espresso and water) barely fill an eight-ounce cup.
At Starbucks the smallest cup of brewed coffee is 12 ounces. (Its new “trente” size is 31 ounces!). The menu is packed with the espresso drinks - originally designed to attract Americans who don’t like the taste of coffee – all loaded with milk and flavored syrups. They have as much in common with European coffee as a soda fountain drink.
Americans break another rule of coffee drinking in France when they walk around, coffee in hand. A baffled visitor asked my why she and her husband drew negative looks on a subway platform. Then she explained they had stopped at Starbucks and brought their drinks with them into the Metro. A Parisian carrying a cup of coffee anywhere in public is a rare sight.
The French are more likely to have a big bowl full of brewed coffee and milk for breakfast at home. Why? A cereal-size bowl allows room for dipping a croissant. Their morning coffee isn’t necessarily a quality brew. Despite the availability of all manner of brewing equipment in the stores, freshly roasted whole coffee beans are hard to find.
I’ve searched in vain for whole bean coffee on grocery store shelves. Instead, one buys coffee beans at the local tortefacteur - the coffee roaster’s shop. Montmartre has three coffee roasters only one of which is active enough to be worthy of the name. La Brulerie de Montmartre has an attractive storefront with a coffee roaster proudly displayed in the window. The shop sells two dozen varieties of coffee and many teas as well as assortments of gourmet chocolate bars and jars of confiture. The owner claims he roasts coffee beans daily, but his large inventory suggests otherwise.
With the purchase of an electric burr mill and local sourced whole beans, we’ve succeeded recreating the coffee ritual we have at home. Our current routine at breakfast is to use coarsely ground beans in a French press. Other times, we spoon finely ground Illy Café from the supermarket into the press. But, when we want to feel Parisian, we walk up the street and enjoy a cup of the real thing. in a local cafe.
