My coffee ritual in Canada (when I would drink the bean juice) usually involved sitting around drinking a whole bunch of drip coffee with like minds. Then when I was working in cafes I would sometimes make myself a frothy double caramel/vanilla latte between strawberry whip-its.
Coffee’s different here:
No matter where in the city you are you can get a tremendous cup of coffee (espresso) for about sixty cents. Not fancy, just the best fucking coffee you can imagine. And you don’t need to sit around dragging the experience out, you just rock your coffee pronto, and hit the road.
Though Italians are not the most efficient people, they can get a coffee done quickly and properly. That’s just one of the things they taught me.