Caffe Reggio, New York

If you drift down MacDougal Street long enough, you’ll hit a little time portal disguised as a café. That’s Caffe Reggio—Greenwich Village’s long-running experiment in proving that the 1920s never really ended. It opened in 1927 thanks to Italian immigrant Domenico Parisi, a man determined to introduce New Yorkers to espresso at a time when most of the country thought “good coffee” meant whatever came out of a percolator. His secret weapon still sits right inside: a gleaming 1902 La Pavoni espresso machine, all brass curves and polished copper, looking less like an appliance and more like a ceremonial object stolen from an opera house. It’s the café’s crown jewel and the reason Reggio proudly claims to be the first spot in America to serve cappuccino.

From the very beginning, the place pulled in Greenwich Village’s bohemian crowd like a magnet. Writers, musicians, insomniac students, and anyone allergic to silence squeezed into the narrow room, drawn to its classical music, antique furniture, and lighting dim enough to make every conversation feel important. By the time the Village became a national stage for artistic rebellion and political debate in the mid-20th century, Reggio had already become its unofficial living room. Beats, folk singers, and half the neighborhood’s philosophers camped out here, scribbling in notebooks or arguing about everything except what time they should go home.

The café didn’t stop at hosting creative chaos; it played a supporting role in political conversations tied to the civil-rights era and even served as a casual hangout for local politicians. Hollywood eventually caught on, too—films like The Godfather Part II and Inside Llewyn Davis turned its vintage interior into a ready-made set.

Today, Caffe Reggio still leans fully into its old-world soul. You can sip a cappuccino, watch the Village glide by from a window seat, and enjoy the rare luxury of feeling like the past and present decided to share the same table...