Why coffee and lemon is a classic combination worth trying

If we talk about “coffee with lemon”, without mentioning a specific geographic area, you would probably think of Sorrento or the enchanted landscapes of the Amalfi Coast. And yet it is the invention of a tiny bar in the historic centre of Giugliano in Campania, a town north of Naples.

Coffee with lemon has delighted locals for decades in what could be described as the archetype of a neighbourhood bar: so frozen in time, so familiar, that if you ask around who makes coffee with lemon everyone will be able to answer and point you in the right direction—but no one will be able to tell you the name of the bar. Coffee with lemon is made by Don Ciccio in Piazza Matteotti, even though Don Ciccio is now retired and has passed the sceptre of this singular tradition to a worthy heir.

A grandmother’s remedy that became a city symbol

Step inside this bar and you immediately realise that coffee here is not just about blends or grind size, that people don’t even ask about bean variety or brand. It’s a habit that marks the day, a fixed point for those who walk in every morning at the same time, a gesture repeated unchanged for decades. And coffee with lemon was born in a place run by someone who sees working behind the counter as a responsibility.

This preparation is tied to one specific name: Francesco Pennacchio, known to everyone as Don Ciccio, the historic barista of the Gran Caffè in Piazza Matteotti. It was here that, over fifty years ago, the idea took shape of combining espresso with the scent of Sorrento lemons. Today, behind that counter stands Aniello Sequino—Nello to everyone—the heir chosen by the inventor, now retired: “Don Ciccio chose me because he wanted someone who would carry on the tradition of coffee with lemon with pride. I’ve been a barista for 50 years and, although we are not related, we’ve known each other forever and he knows I love this job more than anything else.”

Coffee with lemon, Nello Sequino tells us, “was born at home as a remedy for headaches, then it was tried at the bar and people liked it so much that it became a symbol of the whole city.”

Originally, Don Ciccio’s coffee with lemon was slightly different: the citrus juice was squeezed directly into the espresso cup, “but it became too aggressive, too bitter.” In recent years things have changed and the tradition has taken flight, going beyond the borders of Giugliano: today Sequino works on essences and aromas, selects Sorrento lemons and uses only the zest.

An aromatic marriage

The espresso is extracted into a tall glass with a piece of lemon peel at the bottom. The contact with heat encourages the release of natural aromas, and this is one of the reasons why coffee with lemon, when made properly, tastes harmonious and not overpowering. When the peel comes into contact with a hot liquid like freshly extracted espresso—which in the cup sits around 65–70°C—a dual action takes place. On the one hand, the heat breaks the cellular membranes of the peel, allowing essential oils to escape without squeezing. On the other, the presence in the coffee of lipid microcomponents and colloidal compounds allows these aromatic molecules to bind and disperse evenly, creating a rounder and more persistent olfactory perception. It’s the same principle behind the use of citrus zest in mixology or warm pastry preparations, but here it happens in a matter of seconds.

To finish, there is a very quick pass under the milk frother to give a slight foam, before removing the peel from the bottom and dusting with icing sugar flavoured with vanilla (optional, according to the customer’s preference). The aroma arrives before the flavour, the espresso’s bitterness remains clean, and the lemon accompanies without overwhelming.

The craft and the bar

According to Sequino, the real secret is “the love you put into making every single coffee—that’s what makes the difference. Many in Giugliano try to replicate the preparation, which is very simple, but in other bars it remains just one drink among many, not always appreciated by customers. Here, instead, people come from all over Campania to try this simple coffee.” It sounds like a cliché, but in fact it’s tangible: while we were talking, many customers came by asking Nello personal questions, and he replied to everyone, calling them by their names or nicknames; he remembered what they drank even if they hadn’t been in for months, asked about their lives without being intrusive. It’s a relationship built over time, made of listening and discretion.

Nello’s humanity and this simple coffee with lemon are a breath of fresh air at a time when many bars risk losing their identity: this little cup shows how important it is to keep local traditions alive, because they still know how to speak to people. And when you stand at that counter, you understand immediately: coffee with lemon is still a serious matter.