There is a scene in David Lynch's Mulhulland Drive where an Italian movie producer asks for a linen napkin with his espresso so he can be prepared to spit out the swill an American mogul had taken great pains to prepare for him. I imagine the only person who takes espresso more seriously than an Italian is an Italian outside of Italy. It must be something like an American looking for a good hamburger in Budapest, though perhaps even more disheartening. But this kind of frustration can also lead to great things. For example, Caffé da Carlo on Jókai utca in District VI, founded by Tuscan native Carlo Livi and Gergely Orbán of coffee "consultancy" Barista Hungary.

Though his café is singular, the story of Carlo (pictured up top) is not unique. He came to Budapest for a girl and ended up marrying her and staying. A professional barista by trade in Italy, he did time behind the espresso machines of Café Picard and the Factory Café before opening his own business last spring. It is a humble space, where the focus is on espresso, Ft 190 (€0.75): a thimbleful of pure black gold topped with a crema firm enough to rest a forint coin on. Drawn from a pull of around 20 seconds from the machine, this pungent, perfect distillation of the coffee bean can be savored in just a few sips. Carlo adheres to the Italian saying "ten drops [from the espresso machine] and it is coffee. Fourteen drops and it is not coffee anymore."

Really strong espresso is something of an acquired taste, and if it is not your thing the café also has an assortment of espresso drinks and Italian sodas, plus some suspiciously homemade-tasting pastries including profiteroles for Ft 290, and tarts and tiramisu for Ft 450. If this sounds like something of a commercial for Caffé da Carlo it is because I foresee myself returning regularly. The spot is already beginning to draw the espresso faithful. On my last visit I had to do a double take: there were indeed two old men sipping espresso, speaking Italian. Not a linen napkin in sight.