Carrying the battle to the enemy, and how!

VIENNA, Austria – Talk about hubris – and cheek! When we first heard of Starbucks Coffee setting up shop in Vienna, the world capital of superb coffee, we were aghast. At last, I pondered, American insolence and Great Power conceit had carried the Yanks too far.

As soon as we arrived here, after checking into our hotel, the InterContinental Wien (where our conference venue was located), we rushed downtown to discover where Seattle’s Folly had brought Starbucks. The location was amazing. The coffee shop was right on Vienna’s main shopping street, the Kartner Strasse, and, worse, just across from the stately Staatsoper – the state opera house where Vienna sings and the immortal operas are staged. Starbucks not merely stuck an impudent finger up in the direction of the opera house, but fronted another venerable Vienna institution: The Sacher Hotel, that deluxe hostelry where the world-famous Sachertorte was invented!

Talk about taking the battle to the enemy. Starbucks added one more wrinkle. In a land where everybody smokes, whether cigarette, pipe or cigar, Starbucks posted the notice: "No Smoking".

Were there riots and demonstrations? Did we spot angry youths throwing stones at the windows or Molotov cocktails? Sanamagan: They were quietly queuing up for cappuccino, caramel macchiato, caffé mocha, frappuccino ice blended cream or coffee, Double Short Americano, Triple Grand Carmal Macchiato mit Schlagobers or "Iced Tall Vanilla Latte mit fettarmer Milch."

Customers sat in comfortable chairs or sofas gazing out of the picture windows at the passing parade, or stood at the usual tall tables. While the winter wind tore through the bundled, hurrying pedestrians (five degrees Centigrade and falling), it was warm as toast inside this outpost of Americanism. Upstairs, more couples dawdled in their seats. As usual, the outlet boasted the cleanest and most modern toilet in town. And as you know, when the winter frost assaults your . . . cojones, a convenient loo is a gentleman’s best friend.

Is Starbuck here to stay? It has made two beachheads already. There’s another outpost somewhere else, but I forgot where. In the meantime, the American pioneers have gotten the most prestigious address on that most traditional street of the Old City: Number 1, Kartherstrasse.

On one side is the posh Ringstrassen-Galerien, with 70 upmarket shops. Down the street are the handicrafts emporium, Osterreiches Werkstatten, the designer Schellakann, Hartmann, Prada, Swaroski, Kaufhaus Steffl (by St. Stephens Dom), J & L. Lobmeyr, Backhausen, A. E. Kochert, Demner, Chegini, Monika Kaesser – and the Capuchin chapel where the Habsburg royalty sleeps in mummified splendor.

Vienna ain’t never going to be the same.

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How did Vienna become the globe’s coffee capital?

This the Viennese owe to the invading Turks. In 1683, when Kara "The Black" Mustafa assaulted the walls of Vienna with his 300,000 warriors from Krim Tartary, he was repulsed with great losses by a counter-attack staged by the Austrians, with the help of King John Sobieski of Poland, whose army and cavalry had pounded across the plains for several days to come to the rescue of the besieged city. The Muslim warriors had surrounded the city with thousands of tents, clearly intending to capture the Christian citadel and plant the banner of Islam on that doorway to Western Europe. Instead, when Prince Charles of Lorraine, Rudiger von Starhemberg, and King Sobieski hurled their 75,000 men, from the rear, to take the Turks by surprise, the enemy fled, leaving behind their tents, their cannons, and their treasure.

When the victorious troops entered the abandoned tents and initiated an orgy of looting, they came upon dozens of sacks filled with black "grain" which nobody seemed to want or appreciate. Nobody, that is, except a certain George Kolschitsky, who had lived among the Turks, spoke Turkish, and had loyally served as an Austrian spy inside the Turkish camp. Kolschitsky seized the beans and opened up the first "café" in St. Stephen’s Square (not far from where Starbucks stands today).

The Viennese at first recoiled from the bitter taste of the brew, but learned to add sugar and cream to sweeten it. Thus, Viennese coffee was born.

What’s more, to commemorate their triumph, the Viennese concocted a feathery piece of bread in the shape of the Moorish crescent – which they called a croissant.

There are other historians, of course, who claim it was not Kolschitsky but an American adventurer by the name of Diodato (also a spy for the Austrians among the Turks) who established the first Viennese coffee shop. He was shortly after replaced by an Armenian called De Luca.

The heyday of the coffee shop in Vienna, traditionalists mourn, is now past. There used to be more than 700.There are now only 300 left all over the city.

The coffee shop is where the Viennese loved to spend his morning hours, celebrating the centuries-old ritual of sipping his kleiner Schwarzer or his grosser Brauner (your "little black" or your "big brown"), while reading all the newspapers and magazines for free. Coffee shops still supply customers with all the newspapers and magazines in several languages, neatly mounted on rattan or bamboo frames (lest you run off with any of them) – and you can order one cup of coffee, then recline half the day nursing that single cup. Herr Ober and his junior waiters are not supposed to harass you or nag you to drink up and move on, to make place for the next customer. Part of the ritual, still observed in the Café Demel or the coffee shop of the Sacher Hotel or the plush Imperial, is for the waiter to bring you one or two glasses of water with your coffee. This is Viennese water, piped in from the mountain springs of Styria, perhaps the sweetest in the world and always pleasantly pure and cold from the tap, even on the hottest day.

In the coffee shops political plots are hatched, songs are composed, novels are born, transactions formalized, and deals made. Love blossoms, or hatreds are provoked.

In the Café Central, just off the Kartner, a guy named Lenin spent many hours, scheming the Revolution in Russia.

All they need now is to start a Kapihan – as in Manila. On the other hand, I noticed that our newspapers, with more than a year and a half left before the next election campaign, are already packed with election news.

Here in Vienna, elections were held last Sunday – and nobody noticed.