Story

Year 1957…

Winter, one of those winters with an orange and cinnamon aroma diffused in all the dark wooden furniture of the house.
From the wide kitchen window I could see the water well and further beyond it the orange orchard where its fruits seemed like small hot-air balloons rising high in the melting blue sky, warm dreams ready to depart to realize themselves.
Usually at that hour I ate mandarins while the fireplace began to warm up the kitchen and its flames illuminated the old silver tray brimful of coloured candied fruits.
Each Wednesday the carter arrived and downloaded all on the terracotta pavement, near the entrance door.
“Don, I brought you the sacks”.
And then he began to look inside calmly and methodically, to take some of those small brown and round stones almost all the same, first a handful from one sack, then another bigger one from the other, weighing it and adding again some peebles: he continued this way also with the other sacks until he had opened them all.
After, he stopped for a second with a concentrated look, as if he was evaluating his choice and at the end he put them all together in a dark pot, he lit the fire and began very slowly to turn the handle.
For a moment his look caressed me seriously, inviting me without speaking to follow him paying more attention, to come closer.
“Do you see? It is done in this way… be careful, don’t burn it. Now let’s take the grinder and let’s grind together… fine… let’s open the drawer and check it. Use your fingers and rub the powder… you see it’s not ready yet? Now do you feel the grains between your fingers? Now it’s right! Smell “picciriddu”! Do you understand?”.
And he smiled when I signalled to him with my small head that I had understood.
After that he prepared it and he poured it hot.
Yes… that smell… so unique in time.
“Come here, sit down on my knees, let’s speak together a little while your grandfather drinks his coffee. You can have some milk and biscuits… So, tell me, do you understand everything? When you will be come a man, remember to prepare coffee as your grandfather has shown you now”.
And so I made it that way.
And I will continue to do it!
Because this coffee isn’t only good, it is also a part of my history.
It will also become a part of yours.

Riccardo Caruso

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…Today

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A long time has past since them and today Don Caruso has became a company that, thanks to the help of a highly specialized staff, pays close attention to all of the coffee production process: from the harvest at regular intervals according to the beans ripening times, performed on the plantations in Brazil, Honduras, Ethiopia, India, Kenya and Costa Rica, to the selection of the same before the treatment at our roasting.
After that, we continue to make dozens and dozens of tests after the delicate process of roasting, to ensure that our coffee, available in different blends to suit all palates, maintaining “that unique aroma in time” and that taste so recognisable, now more than ever loved and appreciated by all our customers.