cappuccino

Be your own barista by following these do-it-yourself coffee illustrations.
If you want to know New York, get to know its street cuisine. I learned it early. Growing up in Manhattan's Chelsea neighborhood, I would get a lunch of two hot dogs in steam-soft rolls from the guy who set up his stainless-steel pushcart on the corner of 17th Street every morning, rain or shine, Saturdays and holidays, summer-fall-winter-spring.
Predrag Grncarski's a cappuccino guy; his wife, Giselle, favors cortados. Not that they ever have time for a coffee break.
I often say, "Let's meet for coffee." But I never really meet anyone for "coffee." I don't drink coffee. It's more of a figurative statement. It's like when you say, "Sure, I'd love to hear your band play sometime." You don't literally mean it.
Your daily dose of caffeine, animated.
Hey Starbucks, Peet's and Coffee Bean. Hey, you nose-ringed, eyebrow-pierced, knit-capped, tribal-tattooed baristas: listen up. America's cappuccino is cold. And, at $4.25 a cup, we are pissed.
The best, the worst, and the downright craziest drinks for you to enjoy -- or avoid -- this summer.
I drew the line at the whipped-frapped-blapped-blended liquid sugar concoctions masquerading as caffeine delivery systems. How, how do all the people in there guzzling tankards of that stuff stay so slim?