Handfuls of cigarette smoking, espresso sipping Italians hung out at the tables in front of Caffe Vittoria. David served me up a macchiato - a real macchiato, not the fake ones they serve at Starbucks in oversized paper cups half full of foam. No Sir. . .this is what you get in Rome – a tiny ceramic cup with two shots of espresso – marked with foam – not douced with enough foam to extinguish a kitchen fire, but a tiny bit – not mixed in with the espresso either. A professional Italian barista knows his foam, on your first sip, your tounge should decipher the foam from the coffee. I had to shake David’s hand (and take his photo).