The most important lesson I learned? Don't consume four espressos in 30 minutes. At least not if I then want to conduct an interview without appearing to suffer a mild seizure.

But it was the sort of class I couldn't resist. After all, I was in Italy, a nation fueled by caffeine and carbs. And if ever I was going to learn to make real espresso — the sort strong enough to return sight to the blind — it was now.

I was on assignment to cover Slow Food's biennial Salone del Gusto — an international celebration of artisanal and sustainably produced foods — and some of the world's best coffee roasters and makers were on hand.

Lavazza, an Italian company responsible for nearly half of the country's retail coffee market, was offering an espresso and cappuccino class. Basically, 30 minutes of history and how-to, with plenty of samples.

According to the Lavazza folks, espresso is the preferred method for extracting the best qualities from coffee beans.

While drip and percolator coffee makers bathe coffee grounds in hot water, espresso makers have the benefit of pressure. And lots of it. This supposedly extracts more of the oils — and therefore flavor — from the coffee.

One woman in the class didn't like that idea. She was worried about the fat content of all that oil. That earned her a spot on my list of people in need of a firm slap (which includes waiters at Italian restaurants who say "bru-shetta" — it's pronounced "bru-sketta").

Our instructor was more polite. "Don't worry about it. There's only 7 calories per espresso," he said.

That oil is key to the formation of crema, the light brown froth that forms on top of an espresso. Perfect crema should be thick and solid enough to hold a spoonful of sugar for several seconds before letting it slip to the bottom of the cup.

Processing time is key to a good espresso. Lavazza says 25 to 30 seconds tops for a regular. Not quite double that for a long espresso (roughly double the water, same amount of "coffee" as a regular).

Espressos were first turned into cappuccinos in Vienna sometime in the late 1600s, when hot milk was added to coffee to cut the bitterness. The now ubiquitous steam wand used to froth milk in modern cappuccinos wasn't added until the middle of the last century.

Our instructor was disturbingly talented at making cappuccinos. Using nothing but a pitcher of frothed milk (and by the way, the milk should be very cold before frothing, and never use skim), he could make heart and leaf patterns atop the beverages.

And it got worse. His foam was so firm, he was able to use a toothpick dipped in chocolate to write words in it.

For those of us slightly less talented, he offered up some suggestions of other espresso-based drinks. Such as, use a butter knife to coat the inside of a shot glass with chocolate spread (such as Nutella). Pour in an espresso, then top with whipped cream.

Or Turin's famous bicerin, a blend of espresso, chocolate and cream. Combine equal parts espresso (a long one) and melted dark chocolate in a mug. Mix well, then top with cold heavy cream by pouring it over the back of a spoon. Your eyes will roll back.

Finally, an Italian Irish coffee, minus the alcohol (or not). In a cocktail shaker, combine an espresso, a dash of amaretto syrup (or liqueur if you're feeling daring) and a bit of sugar. Shake, pour into a martini glass, top with heavy cream and sprinkle with cocoa.

And if you'd like a serious case of the shakes, try them all, one after another. Then try to take notes.

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asap columnist J.M. Hirsch covers food, diet and nutrition for the AP. E-mail him at This email address is being protected from spam bots, you need Javascript enabled to view it

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