Many years ago pretty well every high street in England had a coffee retailer called Importers. Right in the middle of the shop window was a roaster tumbling coffee beans in a cylinder over a fiery gas burner. And low down near the pavement was a grill through which the aromatic fumes wafted into the street. That is where my love affair with coffee started.
I love my coffee. Thick strong bitter sludgy coffee in Turkey, and strong black coffee in Greece. Coffee with passion in Italy, and coffee which bites back in South America. I like it simple, black, with nothing added. The way nature intended! You can keep your froth and your cinnamon. I don’t want chocolate sprinkled on top or steamed milk stirred in.
Writing this has made me thirsty! I’m off for a cup of tea.