In the age of triple ristrettos and double-shot flat whites the once beloved cappuccino has hit bottom, dismissed by coffee geeks as all froth and no substance. With the failure of Italy, espresso’s spiritual home, to catch onto the third wave of higher quality coffee it has sometimes seemed as if all of the trad capp’s once beloved bubbles have been popped.

Reviving the traditional cappuccino with quality espresso from the UK’s best roasters seemed like a stretch, figuratively and, given the milk texturing techniques, literally. That’s why in planning the 29 October CoffeeSaturday La Dolce Vita Pop-Up I sought support for the baristas Fabio Ferreira of Notes and Jeremy Challender of Prufrock.

Sue Aron, Chloe Callow and Ian James joined me in a Roman biscotti bakeoff. Sue, the creative force behind The Art of Puddings, baked pizza ebraica, which is not pizza as we know it but rather a distinctive biscuit from Rome’s Jewish quarter studded with nuts and fruits. Chloe The Faerietale Foodie and I both prepared tozzetti, the biscotti that is Rome’s answer to almond (or hazelnut) cantuccini. And Ian of Pie For Brains won the bake-off by the narrowest of margins with his take on brutti ma buoni (“ugly but good”), those impossibly light almond meringues.

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Guest of honour Katie Parla, creator of the new and indispensible Rome Dining App, provided an expert voice from the Eternal City. She’s my go-to source on all things edible and drinkable in Rome. Since I can’t always have Katie around I’m happy to have her app.

The La Dolce Vita pop-up concluded with a negroni pizza party. Pizzaiolo Herbie Leonelli of London’s great Datte Foco brought over Roman-style pizza al taglio.

So, yes, the 60-plus who signed up for this CoffeeSaturday pop-up did fall back in love with the traditional cappuccino. But, yes, the traditional cappuccino did have a lot of help.

Gwilym Davies & Jeremy Challender

The London-based baristas Jeremy Challender and Gwilym Davies, co-directors of Prufrock Coffee, possess the same perfectionism, if not the sadism sometimes associated with it. When asked what makes Davies, the 2009 World Barista Champion, special I refer to his habit of pulling beautiful espressos and then enumerating their minute faults. I’ve never found cause to send back a coffee prepared for me by Davies but he has. Twice he’s taken back my espresso before I’ve had a chance to sip it. You might conclude this was due to my having overestimated Davies’ skills as a coffee preparer or, more likely, his having overestimated mine as a coffee taster. But I think was more about fussiness and an uncompromising formula for greatness: 50 imperceptible adjustments = 1 big difference.

The Prufrock difference debuted with an espresso trolley rolled into Present, a menswear boutique in Shoreditch. (Prufrock has opened a second menswear boutique espresso bar at Woodhouse in Notthing Hill.) Now it can be experienced in a real coffee shop at 23 Leather Lane, midway between Clerkenwell Road and High Holborn, with plenty of space for not only tables and groovy Ron Arad Tom Vac plastic chairs but also a siphon and pour-through brew bar. During a recent visit there were some 25 people in the new Prufock Coffee Shop and none were in a rush to leave. The only one who seemed genuinely unhappy with the coffee was – you guessed it – Davies.

Jeremy Challender and Gwilym Davies do not, as a general rule, wear £200 jeans but they seem to like pulling espressos in shops that sell them. The baristas behind Prufrock Coffee have parked an espresso machine just inside the shop window of Woodhouse, a designer menswear boutique at 189 Westbourne Grove in Notting Hill, West London (see map).  Their other in-store espresso bar is in East London at the Shoreditch designer menswear boutique Present.

Challender, who for now is resident barista-in-the-Woodhouse, is using a seasonal blend from Square Mile Coffee Roasters for his espressos but may switch to a single origin espresso, as he and Davies have already done at Present. Only at Woodhouse is he preparing sublime lattes with Daylesford Organic whole milk poured from biodegradable bag packs. Very neat.

This isn’t a stand-alone, full-time coffee shop, but for (great) coffee-deprived West London it’s a start: The Prufrock espresso bar at Woodhouse is open Thursday, Friday & Saturday 10:30am-5pm; Sunday noon-4:30pm. By an amazing coincidence these are the exact times I told the Woodhouse store manager I would be available to work when, only this morning, I submitted my application for the position of sales assistant.

Turns out Davies and his colleagues were less proud than they were defensive about these knobs. Employing tampers outside their shop at 23-25 Leather Lane in London (EC1) indicated they’d been removed from their intended use. To some this might have violated an ethos of the trade.

Prufrock barista David Robson noted a practical benefit: Davies was always instructing novices to hold the tamper like a door knob. The tampers on the front doors would serve as an early reminder for students attending the barista training school soon to open in the spacious coffee shop’s basement. So clever, I thought: In their spare time the trainees could practice their tamping skills by opening and closing the front doors for customers.

Prufrock co-director Jeremy Challender maintained that the tampers were the wrong size for their espresso machines. Redeploying them as knobs amounted to recycling. Davies essentially said the same thing, only in the wordier fashion that is amongst his personal gifts.

They [the tampers] have been following me around for a few years since a lady customer closed her coffee business down when she moved back to the states. You can see from the right-hand side one it says 55mm on it. Our machines use 58mm baskets. I kept trying to give them away to home espresso users but they kept returning them as they were not the right size…

Okay, Gwilym, you’re forgiven.

Personally I have no objection to their using tampers as doorknobs. It’s good design as well as a groovy decorative touch for a coffee shop or even the home of a coffee enthusiast. Thinking I myself might appropriate the idea for a new closet we were installing in our London flat I browsed Prufrock’s shelf display of knobby tampers.

I liked the black-handled one (extreme right) best but was informed it was not for sale to anyone, anywhere. Not even if I promised to use it as a tamper and never as a knob? No. Not now. Not ever. This sounded unreasonable to me, until I had a closer look at the black doorknob, er, tamper I fancied: