Affogato Beyond the Espresso Pour: How Cafés Are Reinventing a Classic

Among desserts built around coffee, the affogato stands out as unusually seductive. It brings together sweetness and bitterness, something solid and something liquid, heat and cold; even a carelessly assembled one tends to land softly. Espresso and ice cream collide, and the eater gets the melting, sweet reward. Although affogatos in the United States have followed their own path since the 1980s, the dish—often listed among the dolci at Italian restaurants—began in Italy. Its name comes from affogare, “to drown,” and some argue it can also be read as “breathtaking.”

There is something celebratory about the affogato, as though it were designed for occasions like a giveaway that Stumptown and Shake Shack held in New York City. There, affogatos combined Stumptown Nitro Cold Brew, Shake Shack’s vanilla custard, and a sprinkle of Jacobsen Salt Co. salt, served free in a branded Govino glass. The dessert also lends itself to collaboration: Little Baby’s Ice Cream and Elixr Coffee Roasters in Philadelphia host an annual Affogato Day, while two neighboring St. Paul businesses, Kopplin’s Coffee and Izzy’s Ice Cream, maintain an ongoing partnership. Customers are encouraged to bring their ice cream in for a shot of espresso, and each shop promotes the other’s half of the dessert.

Italy may have begot this classic, but specialty coffee and culinary ingenuity are turning it on its head.

Beyond its homespun appeal, the affogato is gaining ground, with considerable coverage in consumer press. A mandorla affogato-flavored gelato made jointly by Sydney gelateria Cow and Moon and Single Origin Roasters took World’s Best Gelato at a competition in Rimini. Baristas such as Blair Bachman of Victory 44 in Minneapolis have brought affogatos into competition as signature drinks. Innovation is bubbling up on every side, and—fortunately for shops competing over what can be a narrow slice of consumer interest—there is room for far more.

The traditional version is straightforward: one scoop of vanilla gelato, espresso poured over the top. As the espresso melts the gelato, the texture keeps shifting. Some cafés have found great success with a classic gelato-based affogato; others modify it slightly or overhaul it completely, whether by trying other gelato flavors, switching to ice cream, or even offering a paleo, non-dairy interpretation. Chicago’s Mediterranean-inspired Cichetti has taken the reverse route: coffee gelato, vanilla malted milk, and seasonal doughnuts served alongside.

Several considerations come into play when experimenting. The most obvious are the gelato or ice cream and the espresso: which will you choose, and how will the two complement each other? Sherri Johns, a coffee consultant, coffee recipe creator, and current head judge for the Alliance for Coffee Excellence, suggests roughly a three-ounce scoop of ice cream to one to two ounces of espresso. Pack the ice cream or gelato tightly to cut down surface area and slow melting, and consider pre-scooping and chilling cups to lessen the espresso’s impact. Depending on the effect you want, you might pull the shot into a vessel and then pour it over the ice cream to slow melting. Johns says, “Personally, I prefer to pull espresso directly onto the ice cream so I do not lose any of the precious crema and the sweetness which it holds. The drawback is you lose the chill and the ice cream will melt faster.”

Variations on the affogato have no ceiling. Nico Osteria in Chicago lists four creative versions, and only one of them involves espresso; in another, the gelato is drowned in Prosecco, apricot, and burnt honey. In Phoenix, Churn serves its cheekily named oh my affogato with coffee and vanilla ice cream, espresso, and Mexican coke. It may border on sacrilege, but food bloggers have at least floated the idea of tea affogatos. On Twitter, #wafflegato has taken hold: Portola Coffee Lab, Blue Bottle, and Jubala all serve ice cream with various toppings over a yeast-dough European-style waffle. There are “tipsy affogatos” too (which could be parlayed into cocktails), and some chefs who dabble in molecular gastronomy have tried another kind of reverse affogato: hot ice cream that “melts” in cold coffee.

Ingredients matter in an affogato, certainly—but so does presentation. On the ongoing spoon size debate, Kate Blackman, head of education, training, and menu development for Parisi Coffee in Kansas City, says, “I would eat soup with a demitasse spoon. I like the two-pronged approach of spoonin’ and sippin’.” Glassware varies: many cafés use a standard six-ounce cup, but Gibraltar glasses, tulip cups, and even stemware turn up. Rocks glasses, teacups, and tiny double-walled demitasses are other options. Some affogatos arrive on boards, paired with items like the doughnuts at Cichetti, or served deconstructed, so diners pour their own espresso and choose their own melting rate.

Italy may have begot this classic, but specialty coffee and culinary ingenuity are turning it on its head. The results are mystifying, the possibilities deliciously endless.