Cognetti Roastery: Coffee Made in Bari
Specialty Coffee as a family tradition
Advertisement – Not long ago, one of the scents you could smell in the streets of Bari was that of roasted coffee. For years, the city was home to numerous local roasteries—places where coffee wasn’t just sold, but literally produced, processed, and prepared for home consumption. It is a memory that still survives in many details of daily life, even the smallest ones: just think of the coffee grinders in our grandparents’ homes, a sign of a custom that has almost disappeared today. Coffee, in fact, was often bought in beans and then ground at home, reduced to powder before being placed on the stove and transformed into that drink that, for us, smells of memories.
Today, that landscape has dwindled. Historic roasteries have declined, processes have become industrialised, and coffee has increasingly become something that arrives ready-made, pre-defined, and pre-packaged. But this does not mean that the culture of artisanal coffee has vanished. Caffè Cognetti is one of the most interesting examples of both continuity and transformation: a business that embraces the Bari tradition of artisanal roasting and brings it into a more contemporary vision, without losing its connection to the city where it was born.
Caffè Cognetti: a story that began in Bari
The story of the Roveto family began in 1997 at 17/19 Via Salvatore Cognetti, just a short walk from the Petruzzelli Theater. It was there that Pino and Terry decided to open a coffee shop that would, over time, become much more than just a business. Anyone who has passed through that part of Bari, or who has visited the city center even just for a stroll or an evening out, has likely come across Caffè Cognetti at least once. And not only because the name has stood the test of time, but because that café quickly identified a specific need in the city: a space capable of accompanying people throughout the day, from morning until night.
At the time, the area around the Petruzzelli had not yet fully assumed the role we recognize it for today. Opening a cutting-edge café there, capable of operating during extended hours and offering continuous service, meant anticipating a possible transformation before others did. And that is exactly what happened. The café was an immediate success, becoming a landmark for the neighborhood and then for a wider part of the city, until it became a permanent fixture in the imagination of Bari’s nightlife scene.
But Caffè Cognetti isn’t just a story of the right location or good timing. Above all, it’s a story of relationships built over time, of a daily presence, and of consistent hard work. In this sense, the first café truly becomes a school—not only for those who frequent it, but also, and above all, for those who grow up within that school.
In Bari, the tradition of coffee is passed down through a simple gesture
For Davide and Claudio Roveto, in fact, the family business has never been an inheritance to be passively received, but a space in which to learn and grow. Their entry into the business has been gradual, without shortcuts, following a path marked by concrete steps and a rather strict internal discipline. You don’t get to the heart of the work just because you’re the founders’ sons. You start at the bottom, you observe, you learn, you come to terms with the drudgery of repetition and the hierarchy of roles. Davide describes it with a very precise image, which ultimately sums up the whole meaning of that journey:
“Before I could make an espresso at the coffee machine, I had to go through the exact same process that anyone else in the company would have had to go through… until the day my father said to me, ‘Go on, make the coffee yourself.’”
There is much more to that sentence than a personal memory. It embodies a professional ethos rooted in gradual learning, in the value of technical skill, and in the fact that even something as seemingly simple as an espresso is never truly simple. Especially when that act is not just a task, but a responsibility. Making coffee, in this case, does not simply mean operating a machine. It means entering a work culture, taking on a standard, a name, and a relationship with those who stop at the counter.
Yet Davide doesn’t stop there. That first step, which is certainly a moment of pride and recognition, by no means marks the end of his journey. On the contrary, it marks the beginning of a broader training process that leads him to systematically delve deeper into the world of coffee and quality.
From traditional coffee to specialty coffee in Bari
While the family coffee shop served as his practical training ground, Davide’s education was further enriched outside of it through a more technical and specialized path. This is where the SCA—the Specialty Coffee Association—comes into play, one of the leading international organizations dedicated to quality, culture, and education in the coffee world. His experience abroad served as a catalyst for this journey. Working in quality control and training meant grappling with different standards. When Davide returned to the company, he didn’t just bring enthusiasm or a generational shift. He brought a vision.
Between 2015 and 2016, the second generation began to envision an expansion of the project. It was during those years that a still-embryonic but already very concrete phase of planning began: to conceive of the company not merely as a coffee shop but as a small-scale artisan roastery, roasting and distributing Cognetti-brand coffee to other cafes as well. To do this, investments, machinery, and expertise are needed, but above all, a clear decision is required. Because roasting means taking full responsibility for the product, from the raw material to the final cup. And this entails a profound transformation of the company’s very role, shifting from a place of service to also becoming a production center.
Before the cup: the journey of the coffee bean
To truly understand what this transformation means, we need to pause for a moment and look back at what coffee is before it becomes coffee—at least in the sense we’re used to thinking of it. We know it as a beverage, as an aroma, as an espresso served in a small cup, steeped in tradition. But before all that, coffee is a fruit, and the bean we obtain from it is green, raw, devoid of that smell and flavor we immediately associate with our idea of coffee.
That bean grows only in certain parts of the world, especially in equatorial regions, where climate, altitude, and humidity allow the plant to thrive. From there begins a long journey, passing through harvesting, processing, sorting, and export, and finally arriving at the roasteries, where the decisive step takes place: roasting.
The roaster, after all, is a huge oven. And roasting coffee means cooking it. It is an operation that appears technical, but in reality is very close to culinary logic. Because, just as happens in the kitchen, the way the raw material is treated completely changes the final result. The better the starting product, the more precise and delicate the roasting must be, capable of enhancing it rather than masking it.
This is where the most striking difference between artisanal and industrial roasting lies. The former often works with small batches, using more carefully selected raw materials and generally lighter, less aggressive roasts that aim to respect the bean, enhance its aromatic characteristics, and allow the coffee’s true essence to shine through. The latter, having to handle large volumes and standardize the product, tends more readily to resort to strong, very dark roasts, which end up homogenizing and masking the flavor, eliminating defects but also much of the nuance.
It’s a bit like eating only the crust of baked pasta: you taste the burnt flavor, the most intense and immediate part, but you miss all the complexity beneath. And this isn’t just about taste. It’s also about digestibility, the delicacy of the product, and its impact on the body. Artisanal roasting, when done right, isn’t just a choice of quality or style. It’s also a choice that’s more respectful of the raw material and, consequently, of those who drink that coffee every day.
La micro torrefazione, Bari e la nuova geografia del caffè
Then came COVID, and those months became a time for reorientation, almost a time for family bonding. A moment when ideas, instead of scattering, finally had a chance to take shape.
Davide explains it very clearly: that pause, which for many was nothing but a setback, was also an opportunity for them to reconnect and focus on the project. Not so much to invent it from scratch, but to find the courage needed to actually bring it to life. Because the plan was already there—it had been conceived, studied, and laid out. What was needed was the decisive step from idea to action.
And that is exactly what happens in 2021, when the family moves forward with its investment plan and makes two key moves: it opens the roasting facility—that is, the Caffè Cognetti production site—and simultaneously takes over the café—the only one remaining under Roveto management—at 120 Via Sparano, on one of the city’s most iconic streets. On one side, production; on the other, the commercial and symbolic hub. On one side, the technical heart of the project; on the other, its most contemporary public face.
With the launch of its micro-roastery, Caffè Cognetti has scaled up but hasn’t lost sight of its roots. The connection to Bari isn’t just a token detail to be printed on the label; it remains the true heart of the project. The coffee is roasted right here in the city, and it’s from here that it sets out again. You can buy it directly at the store, or enjoy it at a network of other cafés that have chosen to serve it.
This shift is important because it breaks away from the idea of a business confined to its own premises and opens the door to wider distribution—without sacrificing control. The supply chain, in fact, is not conceived as mere product distribution. It is accompanied by training for baristas, support, and a focus on service. Because a blend may be excellent, but if it isn’t handled correctly during the final stage of its journey, it loses its integrity.
This is where coffee culture regains its concrete meaning. Not as a lofty term to be used in texts, but as a practice. Selecting, roasting, explaining, teaching. Building a network where quality does not end with the bean, but extends all the way to the final gesture.
A distinctive range, blending tradition and recognizability
Even when it comes to creating blends, Caffè Cognetti’s approach prioritizes clarity and distinctiveness. In a period marked by rising raw material costs, the company has chosen not to compromise on quality, but rather to develop a more streamlined and well-crafted range, designed to remain consistent over time.
Today, the focus is on three main products. Neapolis, more intense and structured. Apulia, more balanced and versatile. Red Carpet, 100% Arabica, more elegant and aromatic. Three distinct profiles that do not seek to unnecessarily multiply options but rather to offer a clear expression of flavor, maintaining consistency and identity.
Alongside these, we are working on a new blend, ideally positioned between Apulia and Red Carpet, designed for those seeking greater aromatic complexity than in more traditional blends, but without venturing into territory that is too specialized or exclusive. Here too, the direction is clear: raising the bar without losing accessibility.
Ultimately, the story of Caffè Cognetti is not merely the story of a family or a growing business. It also offers a window into a broader transformation—one that involves Bari, its relationship with coffee, and the way in which certain traditions can still hold meaning today.
On one hand, there is a tangible city memory, made up of roasteries, grinders, beans bought and taken home, and aromas wafting from the workshops and mingling with the streets. On the other, there is a reality that chooses not merely to preserve that memory, but to put it to work, to translate it into a contemporary form—more conscious, more structured, even more ambitious. Because passing on tradition means keeping the fire alive, not worshipping the ashes.
