I thought I knew everything there was to know about Italian coffee. I’m a three-cup-a-day man, and my standby is a single shot with a bit of foamed milk: a classic macchiato. When in Rome, I frequent Caffè Sant’Eustachio, where the baristas make a gossamer crema, masking their technique behind a hulking Cimbali machine.

In Naples, I make sure to ask for my espresso without sugar: southerners prefer robusta beans, which are dark and high in caffeine, so they tend to compensate by sweetening their coffee. I’ve even made the pilgrimage to Turin, where Italy’s first espresso was served at an industrial fair in 1884, to visit its slick interactive coffee museum and try a drink called bicerin, a mix of coffee and hot chocolate topped with a chilled crema al latte.