"Latte" in Rome - Information for tourists in Rome
She arrived on a flight that came in very early in the morning. When she finally got to the hotel she booked near Piazza Navona, one of the most beautiful and evocative squares in Rome, the receptionist told her the room wouldn't have been ready until at least 12.00 noon. She wouldn't have gone to bed anyway, but it would have been nice to take a shower before starting to walk the streets of Rome. She had decided before that she would have not gone to sleep until 10.00 pm at least. Everybody told her that was easiest way to catch up with the time difference and reduce the discomfort of jetlag to a minimum.  Of course the hotel would have kept her luggage in storage until her room was ready. She freshened up in the restrooms downstairs and, after she asked the concierge directions to get to Piazza Navona, off she went.
There weren't that many people around at that early hour and that made the place even more enjoyable. The air was nice and fresh, the water spilling from the fountains sounded like a carillon. Some delivery trucks eventually entered the square and the noise from their engines disturbed the delicate atmosphere a bit, but they were soon gone. All of the restaurants and coffee shops had their tables and chairs out already, she picked a place on the sunny side of the piazza and sat down. She was tempted to order some of the pastry she saw displayed on the counter as she walked to her table, but she decided they looked really fattening. "Maybe tonight after dinner" she thought. The waiter came with the menu and tried to hand it to her, but she gestured she didn't need it and just said: "Latte" The waiter was surprised that this attractive, well dressed,
American lady spoke Italian but automatically replied: "Caldo o freddo?" At home, when she went somewhere and ordered "Latte", they served her a nice cup of hot coffee with milk which was exactly what she needed after that long flight and the coffee they served on the plane. Of course she didn't speak any Italian, but she liked to pretend she did and the first one of the two words the waiter spoke sounded like "Cold", now since she didn't want her "latte" to be cold, she tried to repeat the second word the waiter spoke thinking that if "caldo" must have been cold in Italian and the other word must have meant "hot". So she said to the waiter: "No caldo,fresno." "Freddo" quickly the waiter corrected her. "Freddo" she repeated correctly this time.
Seconds later the waiter came back with a glass of cold milk, he put it on her table, smiled and walked away. She looked at the milk and thought it was strange that in Italy they would bring you a glass of cold milk before bringing you your "Latte". She just sat there for a while staring at useless glass of cold milk and patiently waited for her "Latte" to come. Noon was still far in time and she was in no hurry but she wanted a drink and it wasn't coming. She stopped the waiter as he walked past her on his way to serve another table. "Latte" she said to him again. "Latte" he replied pointing to the glass of cold milk on the table. "Freddo" She almost shouted. "Freddo" repeated the waiter and, knowing no English at all he tried to say her by gesticulating that he brought her exactly what she asked for: a glass of cold milk! She was tired from the trip and she couldn't catch sleep on the plane so she was a bit nervous.
She really couldn't see why it was so difficult for the waiter to understand what she wanted, after all "Latte" is an Italian word! "No" she said accompanying the word with gestures, "No-cold" pronounced distinctly "No-cold, latte-no-cold, latte HOT!" "Ahhh! HOT!" the waiter said. Finally he heard an English word he knew. "Latte no-cold, latte HOT! OK! Subito (quickly)!" Seconds later he returned with the same glass of milk which he had wormed up. She was ready to scream and she did: "COFFEE!" "Coffee?" The waiter asked smiling because "coffee" was another one of the few English words he knew "No milk? Coffee?" "Yes," she shouted "NO-MILK! COFFEE!" The waiter took the glass of milk from the table and walked away. Two minutes later he returned with this tiny little cup filled by one third of thick stuff that looked like mud.
Just a few steps away my friend Guido was opening up his "shop". He sells paintings right on the square. He sells paintings he does himself and paintings done by others. He has a license to sell on the square, a license which is hard to get and he's lucky to have. For what I know he still has all the pictures he painted and he makes his money from selling the good ones made by the real painters who don't have a license. Guido likes women. We call him "Centipede" because a girl he dated once called him that. She said his hands were all over her that night, like if he had more than just two. She felt like if she had one hundred hands on her, like a centipede in fact. Guido speaks good English and has girl-friends in all of the English speaking countries, including New Zealand. He noticed that girl sitting there just as he arrived and while he was unpacking his stuff he was thinking of an excuse to go over to her table and talk to her.
When he heard her shout at the waiter it was like music to his ears, it was obvious she was in distress and she couldn't make herself understood. "Can I help you?" he said once he'd came close enough. She explained what the trouble was and Guido, while he told the waiter to bring the lady a "Caffellatte" and an espresso for himself, sat down next to her and explained that what he just said "Caffellatte" was what she really wanted. "Caffellatte?" she asked. "Yes" Guido said and then continued "in case you want more coffee and less milk in your drink you can ask for Cappuccino". In the meantime Guido was keeping an eye on his Moroccan employee who wasn't happy to do all the work of unpacking and displaying the paintings alone while his boss was having coffee with a beautiful lady.
Guido took his time and explained further: "Coffee shops in America, like Starbucks, have "Caffé Latte" on their menu and that is wrong, the real name of the drink is "Caffellatte". In America, and in all of the English speaking countries in general, people like to shorten names, so that's why "caffé latte" became "latte". It obviously had coffee in it, so why bother pronouncing the word for coffee in a foreign language? In America it works, you say the word for milk in Italian and you get coffee with milk. In Italy instead if you say he word for milk in Italian it's milk you get!" The lady loved her caffellatte and asked for another one. Guido loved the lady and asked for more coffee. They kept conversing until the Moroccan walked over to their table to tell Guido some clients were asking for him.
Before leaving the table Guido asked the lady out and she told him she was going to be with her husband that night.  He was going to arrive later in the day from Germany where he had spend a few days for business. "Too bad" Guido said as he was leaving her "Thank you for the coffee. Ciao." He walked toward his clients slowly and in the meantime he was checking the tables of the other coffee shops to see if any other interesting ladies where sitting there.