he mission sounded simple enough: Find the best espresso in the Toronto area. We, at Martiniboys.com, are constantly on the coffee crawl, but – sigh - we are very aware of the limitations: experiences with local baristas have been wildly varied, many of the area cafés have been getting lackluster and even many of the café owners themselves have gotten too cocky, in diva-like proportions.

Trying to track down the best coffee has proved to be too great a task to be done within the scope of one single session. A mission like this would surely require an ongoing series, and likely involving more than a single authority.

To facilitate the "Best Of" matter, Krups, the coffee & espresso machine manufacturers, came up with a solution: recruit a crew of coffee connoisseurs, supply them with a short list of cafés to visit within a day, and limo-chauffer them from café to café on a search for the city's most quality-driven coffee house.

The "Krups Cup of Excellence” roster of distinctively different cafés to be visited each displayed ample quality to fit the purpose of this quest: finding the best espresso. If you didn't see your favorite spot celebrated in this coffee trek, don't despair. There's so much to explore in the realm of java worship. Those who measure out their lives with espresso spoons always discover new variations on this most glorious bean, as this is a challenge that could properly become a grail, a life's work. So off we go.

In a city where there is a Starbucks on every corner, many people don't realize they could be drinking a much finer drink than they've grown accustomed to. With a properly-tamped shot, you should be getting a wonderfully heady dose with a solid kick of aroma. Sadly, you won't be getting that perfect pump at Il Gatto Nero. I expected better, as gallons of the stuff are served here, keeping the localers' blood pressures and adrenaline levels up to par.

Even on our visit, there are a dozen people in the house, and a mob of bleary, pre-caffeinated bohemians snaking out the door and onto a patio littered with cigarette ash that appears on every surface. There is zero-zero-charm at Il Gatto Nero. And the barista is on automatic pilot; pumping out bitter espressos with a thin crema. Aside from the coffee, the patio rocks. And, if you spend any time on College Street, you will eventually wind up at Il Gatto Nero, because… it's just there. The name recognition alone triggers a Pavlovian response: must ... have ... coffee ... now.

Our next stop is at a place that, sadly, I had never heard of until now. But apparently, The Common, a hole-in-the-wall café has been here for a few years, pumping out top-grade espressos with wild abandon. More than a neighbourhood coffee shop, The Common is just sweet and cozy enough to make you wish you lived in these parts. On our visit, it was postcard perfect – complete with a magical coffee aroma and the obligatory i-Mac guy at the window table.

And the espresso? Yes, there is indeed quality within these walls, as evidenced in astoundingly good, strong and smooth espresso, rocket fuel in a velvet glove. Cheers to the innovative barista who shaved the tops of the espresso filter to maximize the crema! Risky business, as if any part of the process is messed up, the espresso could lose its aroma or get burned. But The Common's ad hoc system was surprisingly effective.

We sit at the polished wood tables in Red Rocket Cafe, an eclectic-looking café, with its bright sun-lit space and polished veneer, staring down at the little demi tasse containing this establishment's straight espresso. The café, it seems, is a welcome addition to this Leslieville neighbourhood - situated within walking distance of numerous furniture stores and quixotic boutiques. The baristas are all professional, though slower than what you might be used mass produced cafés. The interior is light and refreshing, airy and clean. It is in a word, delightful! With nicely executed espressos, Red Rocket delivers a quintessential coffee experience.

You're just as likely to find U. of T. professors as you are hyper bike couriers at Jet Fuel, a dim (but inviting) institution. The coffee, on the other hand, has never been a strong suit. Their strong bitter espresso seems fitting only for the veteran coffee drinker, which is why their main drink is the Jet Fuel latte, the steamed milk shaving off the bitterness. There seems less room for coffee appreciation at Jet Fuel and more room for a quick caffeine fix. Still, there is a continuous stream of customers coming and going, with barely enough space at the counter for everyone.

En route to our next café we pass a Tim Hortons, and the group collectively shudders; I decide not to tell them that quite a few of my days feature a medium Tim's coffee (because, curiously, the large doesn't taste the same) and a handful of Tim Bits.

Suddenly I see our connoisseur's nostrils flare. He is staring with unconcealed disgust at a line of reasonably happy people winding around the building, the place world-famous for its smooth brew and doughnuts, the place made to look as if it's on centre stage instead of down the block at one of the "quality-driven" cafés. The said connoisseur takes one look at one of those Roll-Up-the-Rim-To-Win cups and sneers, "Poison."

OK, relax. If it makes you feel any better, our next stop is Dark Horse Espresso Bar . Moving up the scale in the coffee hierarchy we enter the doors of Dar Horse. If there's a single local coffeehouse that's primarily to blame for my own outright addiction to caffeine, it's Darkhorse. Since its opening, east-end area dwellers have tried to keep Darkhorse a secret, but now the time has finally come to reveal that this picturesque café consistently pumps out firmly tamped shots, producing that beloved brown elixir with a magical aroma and flavour.

But I am at the moment craving something else. Wandering off, watching the limo full of Connoisseurs roll away, I realize that I'm hungry, I want something sweet! I watch to make sure that the crew of coffee snobs have limo-ed merrily away and aren't lurking around a corner. And then, with deep shame, I join the Timbit line-up. - DE