Nicolás Artusi: “There is no such thing as coffee for the rich and coffee for the poor.”

Journalist and writer, Nicolás Artusi is the man behind Coffee Sommelier , a character who has spent 15 years on a mission: to be the ombudsman for drinkers of "the most loved and hated beverage in the world." This is the subtitle of his first book, Coffee , the beginning of a trilogy that includes Manual del café (Coffee Manual)—with techniques for professionals and amateurs—and the recent Atlas de café (Coffee Atlas, a tour of 80 coffee-producing countries ), all published by Planeta in different countries across the Americas.

A book lover, he writes reviews for magazines and specialized sites, and is the author of a novel, Busco Similar (Seix Barral), and a series of essays on friendship, Amigos míos (La conjura), which are expected to be released at the next Editors' Fair . On streaming, he makes Menú del Día every afternoon and among his cultural consumption, he chooses Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee by Jerry Seinfeld .

"The way to distinguish between good and bad coffee is to drink a lot of coffee, but let's revalue the experience, the encounter, enjoying that moment. It may seem a bit naive, but I prefer it to snobbish," he says in an interview with Ñ .

–The universe of coffee, through an atlas—a rather vintage object—tells us about inequalities: the poor countries that produce coffee and the rich ones that consume it.

–The atlas and the descriptions of the countries were a good way to put this inequality in black and white. The country that spends the most on coffee individually is Denmark, and the three countries that buy the most coffee in volume are the United States, Japan, and Germany. All rich countries, while coffee is produced in the so-called Third World. In the central chapter of the book, dedicated to Africa, we see how, despite the fact that coffee is a wild plant, it developed when the colonizing European powers founded large estates to make some land profitable in their colonies. Something similar happened in Central America and the Caribbean. It seemed to me a way to concretely express the paradox of abundance through an essentially flawed artifact like an atlas, because it's impossible to replicate in two dimensions something that naturally has three.

–In Argentina, we have a café culture, a bit of tango, and a wave of specialty coffee shops. How do these two realities coexist?

–For now, it's been peaceful, although they're quite different, and in the end, it's all going to work out for the better. A decade ago, and even less, 99% of the coffee purchased in Argentina was from Brazil. And today, with the emergence of specialty coffee shops, that percentage of specialty coffee has begun to take a significant bite out of the 100%. On the one hand, there are options to enjoy coffee from Rwanda, Indonesia, or Costa Rica in a place more or less close and accessible to your home. But on the other hand, this also means that traditional places, clinging to burnt coffee or the little oil cup , have to renew their offerings, otherwise they'll be left out of the coffee world. A few years ago, I was a judge on a competition to choose the best coffee from the old-fashioned cafés. We went to try Tortoni, London, 36 Billares, Café de los Angelitos, and the winner was Café Tabac, which had a young barista, who wasn't called that. And they told me there was a lot of resistance among customers who wanted the same old, bad coffee. Ultimately, it's a replacement situation: better coffee will be drunk as not only does the offering of specialized coffee shops grow, but the poor coffees from traditional bars are also replaced.

–Another famous setup is the hallway coffee in the workplace. Is it a productivity drink?

–Yes, and I don't like it. In fact, the coffee break at work is called a coffee break , which, by regulation, is 15 minutes long, and that's exactly how long it takes for caffeine to reach the brain . It's designed down to the last minute so that workers don't waste a single minute. This utilitarian use of coffee, neglecting enjoyment, seems to me the perfect argument for a Korean philosopher to write a new book.

–Speaking of enjoyment, you talked about coffee as a possible luxury. Can it be sustained in times of crisis?

–Those of us who write journalism about enjoyment have to put it into context, and it's very difficult in moral terms in a country where there are people who don't eat. Even so, I maintain the idea of ​​possible luxury because, unlike what happens with whiskey or wine, there's no such thing as a coffee for the rich and a coffee for the poor . Andy Warhol said the same thing about Coca-Cola: that it's the same for the Queen of England as it is for the beggar on the corner. This coffee costs the same as the one at the gas station or the worst coffee shop in Buenos Aires: about 3,000 or 4,000 pesos in today's money. Around three dollars. So, it's not so much about the economic aspect, but rather the possibility of discovery and knowledge . I drink better coffee because I know where to drink it and because I can demand that it be prepared or served how I want it. Even with the monstrous inequalities in which we live and with a landscape that tends to create an economic model for 20% of the population, we can say that it's a beverage of democratic access.