Café Schwarzenberg is a very pleasant traditional coffee house with a grand époque interior. It is the oldest of the Ringstraße cafés that came into being when the grand ring road around central Vienna was erected in place of the former medieval defense walls. Like most of Vienna’s traditional coffee houses, the Schwarzenberg has also metamorphosed into a café-restaurant. Visiting in the late afternoon, we decided to stick to what a coffee house do best: coffee and cake!

As we visited on a gloriously sunny day, we selected to sit outside. The views from here are grand: apart from the trams, cars, and pedestrians on the busy "Ring", we also had a good view of the Karlskirche (Charles Church) and the Schwarzenbergplatz. At the center of this large and very busy square is an equestrian statue of Field Marshal Karl Philipp Prince Schwarzenberg, the victor over Napoleon at the Battle of the Nations (Leipzig, 1813). At the far end of the square is the palace that belonged to Schwarzenberg family. It is still owned by the family and part of it is the very classy Hotel Palais Schwarzenberg. In between the palace and the statue is the Befreiungsdenkmal (Liberation Monument) – a monstrosity that the Russians donated and built prior to the end of occupation in 1955. (Berlin has a similar "gift".) For not immediately obvious reasons the Viennese have not bulldozed it yet.

Back in Café Schwarzenberg, the waiter is impeccably dressed in a tuxedo and the service correct – professional and not overly friendly, reserved but definitely not sultry. I ordered a Wiener Werkstatt Jause, which included a Wiener Melange and a square chocolate covered cake with the name of the café in the style of the Wiener Werkstatt (WW). Architect Josef Hoffman, founder of the WW, was Stammgast (regular) in this café, and a 10% discount coupon for the nearby Wiener Werkstatt Shop is available. As expected both the coffee (€3.50) and cake (€3.20) were excellent, and prices average for this kind of establishment.

Entering the Café Schwarzenberg, I’m greeted by such a kaffeehaus waiter, one who could easily pass for an Austrian version of Jeeves. He attentively waits as I give my order in labored German.

"Ein Einspänner, bitte." I’m encouraged that he seems to understand; no doubt he speaks flawless English but does me the courtesy of allowing me to mangle his language.

"Und... ein… Gemischter Salat." A curt nod, the ghost of a smile, and he glides wordlessly away. I lean back with a sigh.

A coffeehouse is an oasis of peace, a "place for people who want to be alone, but need company to do it," as kaffeehaus wit Alfred Polgar once put it. Much more than a place to drink coffee and eat pastry, a coffeehouse is the perfect place to read the newspaper, meet a lover, write a letter, or even hatch a political plot. Once you've taken a seat, it is yours for as long as you care to stay. The waiter will leave you alone yet is quickly summoned by a glance in his direction.

My salad and Einspänner – espresso mixed with milk and topped with whipped cream. - were both delicious. The waiter served them with a flourish, proud of his skill as he deftly balanced the silver coffee tray in one hand. Coffee in Vienna is invariably accompanied by a glass of water with a silver spoon balanced just so across the top. Always. You can depend on it.

Kaffeehaus fare

In the booth next to me, a willowy young woman flips open her cell phone and begins a quiet conversation in Russian. I’m shamelessly eavesdropping, as I sip my einspänner, curious to see how much Russian I can remember. This conversation is easy; she’s giving directions to a friend who is coming to meet her. Her next conversation is in low and rapidly spoken French. No conversation is loud in a coffeehouse; instead, there’s a low buzz: the sound of the contented kaffeehaus hive.

The Café Schwarzenberg sits in the heart of old Vienna, smack on the Kärntner Ring. The Imperial Hotel lies just across the street and the opera house is only two blocks away. While it’s a traditional coffee house in every respect, it has made one concession to modern times and offers a separate room for non-smokers.

Outside, the traffic on the Ringstraße reaches its afternoon crescendo. Inside, I "kill time in order not to be killed by it," as Polgar once put it. And order another cup of coffee.