IRELAND is synonymous with two drinks: Guinness and tea, albeit not necessarily in the same container.
But like many aspects of contemporary Irish life, especially in the capital, that paradigm is rapidly changing.
Enter the coffee bean . . . small, green (before roasting at least), and feisty, a veritable leprechaun of the bean world . . . and all that comes with it: the cafe culture, "Do you want an espresso macchiato with that batter burger?", cafe bars, polo necks and more.
Every time you blink, a new cafe has opened up. If we don't stop blinking soon, there'll be no arable land left in the country. Dubliners are drinking coffee morning, noon, and night. Even MacDonald's is advertising lattes and cappuccinos. When you see a Dubliner's teeth chattering these days you don't know whether it's because of the cold sea air or all the coffee they've been downing. So, while the notion of Mrs Doyle pressing Father Ted to have a cappuccino may be as remote as Craggy Island itself and a pint of "the black stuff" will always indicate a Guinness, that little bean is here to stay and it's bringing a different culture with it.
The dominance of the pub as a social hub is being challenged. The young people of Ireland are going out for the night and getting drunk on nothing more potent than unrequited love and a well-made cappuccino.
Similar changes have been noted in the UK, where a team of researchers from the University of Glasgow recently completed a three-year study into the impact of the cafe culture.
They interviewed cafe owners, placed cameras in several coffee houses and gathered literary references to coffee-houses, all in an attempt to understand the cultural force of Britain's coffee culture.
Not to be outdone by the University of Glasgow, the Sunday Tribune sent Emmet Cole out to get a snapshot of the cafe culture, Dublin-style. One day.
Three key interviews. Several varieties of coffee. A key gap in Irish sociological research plugged.
The cafe manager Warmed by Bewley's lattes, I'm feeling pretty intergalactic as I head to the Metro Cafe to meet manager Darren Harte.
The cafe culture is immediately apparent: two lovers exchange text messages at a distant table, a business meeting finishes with happy handshakes, and as I introduce myself to Darren, a man at an outside table strikes up on a Spanish guitar.
Not an unusual occurrence, Darren explains. "He's one of a dozen guys who might pass by. We get all the buskers from Grafton Street, sometimes three or four at a time, playing a few tunes. We don't mind as long as they're not too obtrusive."
It's hard to imagine most bars being so tolerant I suggest.
"Drinking is about extremes, " he says. "People are either going out for one and going home or drinking to excess. Cafes offer an alternative. You want to sit down for a few hours and enjoy a very relaxed buzz."
Having worked in bars for four years prior to starting at Metro, Darren knows from experience that cafe customers are a lot easier to deal with than bar customers. "Cafes are more people-oriented. They're not about getting shit-faced, " Darren explains. "Pubs do seem to be leaning more towards the cafe culture themselves, with cooler bars and serving coffee, but I don't think they've really grabbed a hold of it. If they did, they could give everyone a run for their money."
As Darren describes the diversity of the cafe crowd, he really warms to the topic. "We get pretty much every walk of life in here. Taxis drivers who stop for a quick coffee, students who'll sit for hours, fortysomething women who've been out shopping for the day and want a quick bite of lunch, families in for lunch on a Sunday as part of a trip into town, grannies. . ."
Despite the heavy schedule and workload . . . eight-hour shifts from midday until closing six days a week . . . Darren believes that everyone should do a stint in the catering industry. "We're always busy. We have three hours at lunch where it's just go, go, go. Then there's a gap for a couple of hours, where you stock up and get ready to do it all over again. At six o'clock businesses are closing and people are finishing college.
You've got another two hours where it's go, go, go. And then you're into the last two hours where you wind down and close the shop. This industry is hectic, so if you work in it you will definitely learn a new appreciation for people. Whether it's a love or a hate, a new appreciation will be found."
I've managed two espresso macchiatos while we talk: I've never had so much fun with whipped cream. Well, none that I'm prepared to share here.
The expert "Let's go and have a coffee in Bewley's. The roasting coffee smell hits one first on the street. An incense that heralded the teak-framed windows filled with fudge, cakes and buns." . . . JP Donleavy Where better to begin than Bewley's Oriental Cafe in Grafton Street? This place has all the grandeur and tradition that's associated with coffee drinking in Dublin. I'm here to meet Joseph Smith, national co-ordinator of the Speciality Coffee Association of Europe, a non-profit umbrella organisation for the coffee industry.
The SCAE's Irish chapter promotes the range and standard of coffee through education and promotion. Joseph travels the world preaching the coffee message. He's just back from Norway, where he has been meeting with coffee wholesalers and other experts. Coffee is truly a worldwide phenomenon.
"We think of coffee as a treat, but to people in other countries, especially in the third world, coffee is like pre-famine Ireland with the potatoes: their survival depends on it, " he says.
As I tuck into a delicious latte, Joseph explains that one of the main factors behind Dublin's growing cafe culture is the negative press around alcohol. "You drink too much coffee and you might be a little hyper, but if you drink too much alcohol, you could be dead on the street. I'm by no means anti-alcohol, but certainly it is much more acceptable now for people to drink coffee instead, " Joseph explains, adding that while pubs are used to dealing with beers and wines, their staff are not used to handling coffee.
"They're not coffee people, " he says, "unlike bar staff on the continent who know how to make coffee the right way. Irish publicans don't have the same focus and there's a huge education gap, but that is changing."
Joseph believes the cafe crowd is more cosmopolitan than the traditional pub crowd, but not necessarily any wealthier, since coffee is one of the most expensive beverages available.
"It's not a price issue, it's a quality issue, " he says. "Irish people between the ages of 25 and 45 are going to cafes far more than they were a few years ago because the coffee and the cafes are better now."
Over St Patrick's weekend 2006, the SCAE will host the sixth Irish Barista Championships. "The first time we ran it, we had eight entrants and we practically had to drag them through the doors to participate, " Joseph admits. "Now we have between 80 to 100 entrants. It's really, really catching on."
As I sneak a second latte, Joseph gives me some sage advice regarding all-day coffee drinking: "Eat a good breakfast. Nothing too spicy, so that you can taste the coffee. And try not to be hammered from the night before."
It's a bit late for that.
"In the morning, focus on milk beverages . . . lattes and cappuccinos . . . and work your way through to the heavier coffees and the pure espressos as the day progresses. To get the taste profile right, drink single origin filter coffee. The taste of single origin coffee in Dublin is just as it would be in Nicaragua if you went up to a farmer and used his beans."
And a lot safer too.
The barista It's midnight already and I've really got the bit between my teeth as I enter Cafe Moda in Rathmines. One of Dublin's most popular late-night venues . . . it stays open until 5am on Friday and Saturday nights . . . this cafe bar has been serving speciality coffees long before Starbucks came to town.
I'm due to meet Thomas Lewis, a native of Ann Arbor, Michigan, who has been working as a barista for nine years. It was a natural progression for a kid who discovered a love for coffee when he was in high school. "I was always hanging out in coffee shops and I'd jump behind the bar and help out when they got busy. That's really how I got started, " he says as I swig an espresso doppio.
Thomas then worked in a series of coffee shops up and down the east coast of the US. He worked for independent roasters too, supplying restaurants and speciality coffee shops. Roasting transforms the hard and inedible green coffee bean into the brown and black roasted beans that we're familiar with.
Thomas believes the cafe crowd is more diverse than that found in pubs. "The beauty of the cafe crowd is its diversity.
It's school kids, students, and professionals. It's old people and people on the dole. It's everybody. Not only do we get a more diverse crowd, I also think there's a far broader ethnic mix in cafes, certainly from what I've seen in Dublin pubs generally.
You've got a lot of cultures that don't necessarily drink alcohol, so these people go to cafes instead, " he says.
"Conversations are fairly free flowing in a pub but if I, or some of my friends, were to walk into the quintessential old-man Irish pub we'd get looked at cross-eyed. Whereas in a coffee shop that very firm age barrier is cut down appreciably, " he says.
I order a hot chocolate espresso and somehow the conversation turns to Derrida and deconstruction. Try that in my local pub and you'd be kicked out for disturbing the peace. But it seems things are essentially different in the cafe culture.
"It's not that cafes are more or less tolerant, " says Thomas, "it's just a completely different atmosphere that makes it work. It's apples and oranges. It's, 'Which way do you want your drugs to take you: up or down?' The cafe bar is the future for Dublin. I realise that the old guard is still in the pub, but even though I've only been here for a year and a half, I've seen cafe bars start to take precedence."
It's 2am and as I stand outside trying to hail a taxi, with chattering teeth and bloodshot eyes, it occurs to this budding sociologist that the cafe bar is probably the best of both worlds:
a blend of old and new that makes Dublin such a great place to live and our cafes so interesting to visit.
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