I am one of few inhabitants of planet earth that has never had a cup of coffee. How and why such a thing could be is as much a mystery to me as to anyone else, So, my enjoyment of coffee and all its seemingly endless variants, has been vicarious. I do, however, love a good cafe, and New York City, could arguably be the epitome of cafe society in the United States. I have had ample opportunity over the decades to accompany many a coffee lover to the numerous cafes of the city.
In the late 1970s and early 1980s, my sister and her husband made frequent trips from their home in Connecticut to the city. My brother-in-law had what could be fairly said to be a serious coffee addiction, and there was no better place to fuel such a habit. At that time, not so very long ago, there were no Starbucks and in Connecticut, and there were no cafes either. Something like cappuccino was a real specialty, a rarely found beverage, perhaps available in the best of Italian restaurants, virtually nonexistent where they lived in central Connecticut. Their returns home were always wrought with sadness, knowing full well that they were returning to the cultural and cappuccino black hole of the burbs.
Even gourmet beans, now a commodity nearly everywhere, were much harder to find out of the city – my sister and her husband would purchase ground coffee from specialty merchants such as Gillies in the Village and transport them back home. Visits to New York for my sister and her husband were pilgrimages to the mecca of cuisines, and their days here were punctuated by coffee stops. On one visit, we made a visit to Caffe Reggio, which I had learned was New York City’s oldest cafe and located on MacDougal Street, only a few blocks from my home. I recall that we were very disappointed with the desserts. To most neighborhood residents, this block of MacDougal is to be avoided, owing to its very trashy character, over crowding, and plethora of poor quality food establishments. It is perhaps the most touristy block in the Village. I learned my lesson, never to return to Caffe Reggio.
Last night, three of us were caught in a rain storm on MacDougal Street with neither umbrellas nor any interest in going home. Our ritualistic nightly Washington Square Park stroll appeared to be rained out. We stood under a shop canopy and began looking at indoor options. My companion pointed out Caffe Reggio, which loomed large conveniently right across the street. I was very averse to visiting, but, given few other nearby options, gave way.
The lure of this cafe is obvious. Apart from its location, one step inside and one can feel old world charm literally exuding from the walls.This is the Village’s (and the city’s) oldest cafe, established in 1927. In a short time, I unwillingly succumbed to its ambiance. The lighting was superb for photography and even served my point and shoot camera well.
Reading online and the cafe’s literature, I learned a number of startling things about Caffe Reggio. The walls are covered with an array of artwork, some of which dates back to the Italian Renaissance period. Among the works is a dramatic 16th century painting from the school of Caravaggio. There are antique benches, all of which can be sat upon, and one of which belonged to the Medici family bearing the Florentine family crest.
The centerpiece, however, and Reggio’s claim to fame and pièce de résistance, is a magnificent espresso machine made in 1902 and used for years to make cappuccino. Its ornate chrome and bronze exterior houses an impressive marriage of engineering and design. Cappuccino first became popular in Italy at the beginning of the last century, and soon after was introduced in America by the original owner of Caffe Reggio, Domenico Parisi. This explains the meaning of the store signage and motto “Original Cappuccino,” which I have seen for decades, yet the meaning of which I never really pondered. For most visitors, its history is of no interest and remains unknown. It’s somewhere to get out of the rain, an historic fixture in New York’s cafe society, and, of course, A Place for Cappuccino 🙂
More cafes: Tangerine Dream, When Your Name is Mud, Gotta Get Out, Think Coffee, Olive Tree Cafe
This is the very first place I was ever in in the Village, probably in 1957 or 58 or earlier, long before I worked at Santelli’s Fencing Equipment (and Salle d’Armes) above Bigelow’s Drug Store (and Soda Fountain) in the mid ’60’s.
My friend Ginny (younger than me) knew all the places in the Village. She later did typing for Allen Ginsberg. And traveled around North Africa in her late teens with her younger sister Kathy in the days when that was possible. Her death at 30 was a tragedy. She had become a nurse, got married and had a son. One month after he was born she died from the fastest case of Leukemia they had ever seen in that hospital.
I still miss her.
(By the way – Caffe Reggio was just fine – with good desserts.)
a good and interesting article!
thanks
+1 regular reader)
Living about a mile away I must say I haven’t been there in, perhaps, 35 years…but as soon as I saw your beautiful photo of the cappuccino machine…I knew it was the infamous landmark Caffe Reggio.
Wow, Mary, I remember Santelli’s Fencing Equipment…never was up there, but it was also a Village Landmark.
And, Brian, even tho you don’t drink coffee…doesn’t it smell really good? 😉
This place and the changes it has gone through in the past 60 years is a perfect reflection of the changes in the Village. I have to laugh just a BIT when I see everyone complaining about losing the “authentic” Village of the 70s, 80s, etc. Man, they should have experienced it in the 50s and early 60s. But I can also remember meeting what then we would have referred to as “old codgers” who had been there in the 20s and 30s who told us how it had all turned to crap (the coffee wasn’t anything compared to the good old days, the desserts weren’t really fresh anymore, etc.).
How that refers to Cafe Reggio is that when we went there 1960-1965 it seemed REALLY special to us. Exotic coffees available NOWHERE else in North America (not even SanFran), GREAT desserts, and I thought I remembered a lunch menu that was out of this world (but that might be a geezer mind-switch with another joint).
But it wasn’t just the stuff, it was the people who worked there; and through their influence the people you would meet (or at least eavesdrop on). Italian was still the language of choice, the C-machine was CONSTANTLY acting up, and heaven help a new waiter or waitress = put them thru their paces. And it was generally, wonderfully NOISY alla time (until later in the evening).
So started travelling far and wide in mid-late 60s, and didn’t come back to the Cafe until ’68 or ’69 , and it was almost TOTALLY different. I’m not sure if one of the owners (or even managers) had died, and I’m pretty sure the dessert woman left for some reason that I never heard. First tip-off was that the C-machine seemed to work perfectly, English was the new rule, and the desserts…….not so great.
So in some ways I’ve taken the long route to say that,meh, life goes on. And I’ll also bet there is some 12-year old who has been sittin’ in the place over the last little while ; and sometime in the future, say 2030, will publish a brain-blog post to his…..well, brain, moanin’ about how cool this place was back in the 2010s……that it all changed when they brought in the Cappuccino Robot Waiters that brewed up the cup in their armpits and squirted cream outta their fingertips. (YeGods, I’ve just scared MYSELF ! )
Point is, his pictures, (taken thru his eyeball of course) won’t be half as good as yours :+)
This cafe appeared in the move Shaft (the original 70s one). Other scenes were filmed on MacDougal as well. The street has changed in appearance but Cafe Reggio’s looks the same. There is even a song called Cafe Reggio on the films soundtrack by Isaac Hayes.