Many poets and writers rhapsodized about the Vienna coffeehouse, all
searching for the essence of what has become the most Viennese of all
Viennese institutions. With limited success - coffeehouses have
acquired a certain mythical quality; in short, they are the stuff
legends are made of.
The
Origins
How did the exotic coffee-bean find its way into Vienna? Numerous
legends abound. One version which seems the most plausible concerns
Georg Franz Kolschitzky, who served as a scout between the two
opposing camps during the unsuccessful Turkish siege of Vienna in
1683. It seems he was quite fluent in the Turkish language and
familiar with Turkish customs. After the end of the siege,
Kolschitzky supposedly asked for (and received) large bags of green
beans as a reward for his services. In one version, these beans were
at first taken to be camel-fodder by the Viennese. However, when
roasted and brewed with hot water, they produced a strong aroma and a
delightful taste. Kolschitzky eventually opened one of the first
coffeehouses in Vienna.
Vienna was not the first city to boast a coffeehouse. In fact, the
first coffeehouses were built in the harbor cities of Venice and
London. But in Vienna, the coffeehouse has been brought to a
perfection never equaled elsewhere.
What
actually is a coffeehouse?
Some of the very old Viennese coffeehouses are beautiful in and of
themselves, with crystal chandeliers, plush sofas, and marble-topped
tables. But most of them are quite unprepossessing. Their hallmarks
are large rooms, small tables, uncomfortable chairs, non-descript
décor and creaky floors. A bit shabby, but quite
gemütlich. In fact, a bit like home. Of course, unlike at home,
the level of interaction with those around you remains at your
discretion. As noted essayist and coffeehouse habitué Alfred
Polgar said: "A coffeehouse is a place for people who want to be
alone but need company to do it with."
Décor plays its role and other guests make a difference, but
that is not all. So is it the coffee that draws people to
coffeehouses? It is true that, for more than three hundred years,
coffee has played a major role in the lives of the Viennese. But even
the coffee does not account for the popularity of coffeehouses in
Vienna. After all, it is easy to find small coffee bars (as in most
of the world nowadays) where excellent coffee is served to a standing
clientele as a quick pick-me-up.
A
State of Mind
In fact, a coffeehouse is far more than the sum of its parts.
Tangible though it may be, it is really closer to an abstract idea. A
state of mind. A way of life.
A novice might wander into a coffeehouse and order "a cup of
coffee," gulp it down, pay and leave. To the true coffeehouse
connoisseur, this approach would demonstrate that he has no idea
about the art of coffeehousing.
First, one does not simply wander into just any coffeehouse. You
don't pick up a cup of coffee on your way to other amusements. A
coffeehouse should be an end in itself. And the coffeehouse you
frequent usually says a lot about you.
You don't merely order "a cup of coffee." You wouldn't
expect to be taken seriously if you ordered "pasta" in
Rome, "beer" in Munich or "wine" in Paris. So
too, in Vienna, you would, according to your predilections,
explicitly specify which of the twenty-odd different types of coffee
you would like to be served (see glossary). If you simply say "a
cup of coffee," the "Ober" (or headwaiter, as every
waiter is called in Austria), though he will not bat an eyelash, will
know you for an outsider.
Your coffee will arrive on a small silver platter accompanied by a
small glass of water with a spoon balanced precariously over it. The
glass of water symbolizes the establishment's desire to let you know
that you are welcome to stay indefinitely. You sip your coffee, you
nurse it along, you cherish it; and even long after you have finished
it, you may sit and do whatever you are doing for as long as you wish.
What
is it that one actually does in a coffeehouse?
In effect, almost everything one might do as well or even better at
home. One can read all of the day's newspapers. They are provided
free of charge, of course, along with a vast collection of current
periodicals. And, at many of the larger coffeehouses in the center of
the city, you are provided with a selection of foreign-language
newspapers as a matter of course.
Students do their studying, tutors their tutoring, writers their
writing in coffeehouses. You can play chess, cards or billiards if
you are so inclined - many coffeehouses provide you with a
chessboard, cards or a billiard table.
And it is a place to meet people. Friends meet just to chat or
gossip, or - depending on their outlook - to conduct stormy political
or philosophical discussions. Business partners negotiate deals
involving great sums of money over a Melange. And whatever lobbying
is done in Vienna, it is likely to happen in a coffeehouse - for
there are several good ones near City Hall and Parliament. Lovers
also meet in coffeehouses - a date where you can sit for hours on end
on a single cup of coffee is surely easy on the pocketbook.
If you are intent on spending all day at a coffeehouse on your one
cup of coffee, that's fine: however, all coffeehouses also serve
light fare such as Würstel (Frankfurters) or sandwiches. Many of
them offer full-fledged and often delicious meals. This being Vienna,
delicious pastries are invariably offered at coffeehouses. However,
here, as opposed to the ubiquitous Konditoreien (pastry shops), where
coffee is also served, the pastry serves to complement the coffee and
not vice versa.
Viennese
coffeehouses mean different things to different people
If a Viennese says, "I'll go to the coffeehouse," everyone
who knows him well will most probably know which one he means. Then
as now, coffeehouses, like people, have different personalities. And
not every coffeehouse fits every personality - even the selection of
one's very own coffeehouse, as it were, is often the result of long
process of evaluation and elimination. And, just as there is no
predicting when, how and with whom one falls in love - you'll simply
know you have found "your" coffeehouse. The chemistry will
be just right.
Some
typical coffeehouses
A visit to three typical well-known Viennese coffeehouses
demonstrates their variety:
The Café Hawelka in narrow Dorotheergasse has been a hangout
for artists and intellectuals (and their disciples) ever since the
Austrian writer Hans Weigel chose it as his second living-room after
the Second World War. "Following the law of nature of a snowball
or an avalanche," as Weigel described it, the Hawelka quickly
took off. Over the years, such famous painters as Friedensreich
Hundertwasser and many others paid their bills with paintings which
still hang on the walls of the café. In between, there are
posters with announcements of art exhibitions. Due to its cramped
quarters, the Hawelka is always crowded - which seems to add to the
atmosphere. And in keeping with its Bohemian flair, its clientele is
probably the most colorful in all of Vienna.
The interior of Café Prückel, across from Stadtpark on
the Ring Boulevard, is reminiscent of the fifties. Nevertheless, it
is one of the most authentic coffeehouses in Vienna: in its back
room, one is likely to find some pensioners playing cards and chess,
while the guests in the front range from civil servants from nearby
ministries to students. There is no pretense whatsoever, either of
bygone splendor or current trends. One simply feels comfortable in
the café's well-worn velvet seats and its slightly, but not
quite, dilapidated atmosphere.
Café Landtmann, on splendid Ring Boulevard, is probably the
single best meeting place in Vienna. Next door to Vienna's renowned
Burgtheater, across the street from the University and City Hall with
Parliament not far off, the location of Café Landtmann is easy
to reach from both inside and outside the city center. The lavishly
decorated Landtmann seems to combine the old and the new to
perfection. There is nothing seedy in its oldness - rather it
reflects the splendor of bygone days as well as some of the affluence
of today. Here one may receive one's "coffeehouse
knighthood" by being not only known by the headwaiter but also
addressed by one's name. And it is the best way to observe a
cross-section of Viennese society, be it in its spacious and elegant
interior or outside on the large terrace, which is covered by a
canopy when rain threatens.
At the Landtmann's terrace, the pundit who described coffeehouses as
the perfect place "because one isn't at home and yet, one does
not have to be in the fresh air," is proven wrong: Viennese love
to sit outside their coffeehouses in small sidewalk serving areas,
called "Schanigärten," enjoy their coffee, maybe eat
some pastry and watch the world go by.
A
Sense of Continuity
Some of the coffeehouses that, at the turn of the last century, were
what now would be called "in" places, have disappeared
forever. And, in the years following World War II, there was great
anxiety in Vienna, as one famous coffeehouse after another closed its
doors due to the exigencies of modern life. This period of "dying
coffeehouses" is over. And another renaissance of the Viennese
coffeehouse is in full swing. In fact, some of the old coffeehouses,
such as the Café Griensteidl, which used to be a haven for
some of the most famous Austrian writers, artists and philosophers -
this is where Karl Kraus read all the newspapers he would eventually
blast in his incendiary magazine Die Fackel - or the Café
Central where one of Vienna's foremost coffeehouse literati, Peter
Altenberg took most of his meals, had his mail delivered, wrote,
socialized, in fact, resided, have been resurrected and now welcome a
different clientele, in keeping with the fact that another turn of
the century has arrived.
Some pessimists are of the opinion that "coffeehouses are not
what they used to be." That may well be true. It may safely be
assumed that these words were first spoken right after the first
coffeehouse opened in 1683. Some wit along the way clarified that
statement by saying: "Coffeehouses never were what they used to
be." In that spirit, today is as much the "golden age"
of the coffeehouse as it was in the seventeenth, eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries. After the turn of the millennium, one suspects
that Viennese coffeehouses will be around at the turn of the next
millennium - and even then, they might not ever be "what they
used to be."
A Sampler of Viennese coffees:
• Kleiner Schwarzer - small espresso
• Grosser Schwarzer - double espresso
• Espresso - basically the same as
Kleiner Schwarzer
• Kleiner Brauner - Kleiner
Schwarzer with milk
• Grosser Brauner - Grosser
Schwarzer with milk
• Melange - a less strong Grosser
Brauner with a little steamed milk
• Mocca - klein oder gross -
synonymous with Schwarzer
• Kapuziner - black coffee with
milk added until its color is that of a Capuchin monk's robes
• Franziskaner - black coffee with
still more milk, to achieve the lighter color of a Franciscan monk's robes
• Nussbraun - coffee that resembles
the color of nuts
• Nussgold - lighter still, like a
"golden nut"
• Gold - coffee the color of gold,
i.e. quite light
• Milchkaffee - half coffee, half milk
• Verlängerter - an espresso
that is "lengthened" by a shot of hot water
• Einspänner - originally, the
name meant a one-horse carriage. In coffeehouse parlance, it means a
Grosser Mocca with whipped cream on top, sprinkled with cocoa
and served in a tall glass
• Fiaker - named after Vienna's
horse-drawn carriages and their raucous drivers. Strong, black coffee
laced with hot kirsch, topped with whipped cream and a maraschino cherry
• Türkischer - Turkish coffee,
sweet and black, served in copper cups
• Eiskaffee - cold black coffee
with vanilla ice cream, topped with whipped cream
• Capuccino - in some Viennese
coffeehouses, black coffee topped with whipped cream; in other
coffeehouses and Italian • • • restaurants
you get it the original Italian way: topped with steamed foamy milk
• Kaffee Maria Theresia -
Mocca with orange liqueur and whipped cream
Article Author: Susi Schneider
Vienna Tourist Board
