Buying "Suspended" Coffee in Naples

A small article in the New York Times twitter feed caught my eye today. Its headline was something about "the Neapolitan tradition of suspended coffee." I read it (a) because I wondered if this was talking about Naples, Italy; and (b) because I wondered what kind of weird suspension coffee drink I had missed during my one and only visit to Naples.

Lo and behold, it was about Naples, Italy. Yes, that's the legendary mob town. Yes, it's the dirty, chaotic, underfunded part of Italy. And yes, it's not where most Americans want to go.

But there's much to enjoy in and near Naples: Pompeii, museums, the Amalfi Coast, and pizza. Oh yes, pizza. It's the supposed birthplace of pizza: simple ingredients, wood-fire cooked, real buffalo mozzarella, and so very wonderful. An article about food in Naples, therefore, grabbed my attention.

Suspended coffee was something I had never heard about. It's a drink that passed my notice. "What is it?" I wondered to myself.

Believe it or not, this is not a new take on coffee. The "suspension" has nothing to do with chemistry or liquids of any kind. It's a form of generosity being acted out by ordinary Neapolitans on behalf of other ordinary Neapolitans. It's their way of paying it forward.

You've no doubt heard stories or lived those situations where the person just ahead in the drive-thru lane at Starbucks or Chick-fil-A (most commonly, from what I hear) pays for the order of the person behind them. Sometimes this will continue repeatedly for 10 or more people, each paying for the order of the person behind them.

Suspended coffee, you see, is a way of allowing those down on their luck to participate in the daily Neapolitan ritual of drinking espresso. You pay for two espressos, but the barista only makes one. You drink that one. A receipt is printed for the second one and is left in a prominent spot for anyone who needs it. (See sample receipts in the picture.) The coffee—already paid for—is "suspended" until claimed by a customer who can't spare a euro for the Italian's ritualistic jolt of caffeine.

If I'm ever broke and ready for a good cup of coffee, I'll know where to go. Not all in Naples practice such generosity. And not all are in need of a donated espresso. But it's good to know that such acts of kindness are commonplace even in unexpected places.

How generous will you be in 2015? I need to assess this in my own life. I can't always buy coffee for strangers, but I can live a life of kindness in simple, daily ways. How will I do that this year?

You can read the article and learn more about suspended coffee in Naples by clicking here.

Comments

Unknown said…
It is an amazing to receive a gift from a total stranger! It has happened to me fairly recently in the McDonald's drive-through. It made me smile all day.
Jason Locke said…
Thanks for the comment. Yes, it is an incredibly humbling & uplifting experience!

Popular posts from this blog

Love It or List It: We Sold Our Church Building

Galatians 4:1-7 & The Confusing Apostle Paul

Still Freezing in Abilene