as promised, a separate coffee blog
Okay, Rachel’s short history of coffee.
I never drank coffee in America. Nasty, disgusting stuff. I had such issues going to cafes because I didn’t like tea either. When I discovered the steamer (steamed milk with flavour shots – almond, mmmm….) it really boosted my nightlife.
When I stayed in Metz, France, with friends of mine, we’d go sit outside in the big central plaza where all the cafes had their outdoor tables (gotta love France). One night I decided to be French and ordered an espresso. My first espresso. It came with a little chocolate square. I put sugar in it and sipped it very, very slowly. It was hard to take, but GOOD COFFEE, so I ended up enjoying it.
I didn’t have coffee again until Australia, when Allan’s friend made me a really good cup. He got Allan into coffee as well, as he just makes perfect cups of coffee, like every time. Always Vittoria espresso coffee, always in a plunger. Now I’m hooked. I love my proper coffee and won’t drink instant. I still can’t make a really good cup every time though. But that once in a while, when it comes out perfect…mmm…ahhhh…. love it….
I’m not too good with the 8-cup (or is it 6-cup?, either way it makes 4 cups really) plunger.
One last story. On my trip home before last, my parents and I went to Montreal. Before we had to catch the bus back home, we found this very fancy French cafe, with truffles and beautiful little baked things and stiff men behind the counter. I ordered a coffee and oh my god this was the most amazing cup of coffee Iv’e ever drunk. I had been coffee deprived up till then, being at home in America, the land of crap percolated coffee, so this was music to my taste buds. But even if I wasn’t coffee deprived, it still was the most perfect, not any bitterness, smooth, creamy, just fingers-pinched-together coffee ever. And despite the fact that I was going to shortly be on a bus with nowhere to pee but the bus toilet, I had another cup.
