We have just arrived from Vienna. Yorkshire looks like an elderly Lady, slightly Autumn stricken, her beauty bashfully hidden under an amazing sky. This is undoubtedly tea country. The first café ever opened in history sleeps in the Austrian capital. A Serb was the pioneer who did that in 1683 or so. Whether true or not doesn't matter. True is, that Viennese citizens nowadays have a choice between some twenty different types of coffee. The Maria Theresia Kaffee is somewhat an exception. It is for those who love alcohol or are already drunk. Sort of Irish Coffee.
Today, on a Sunday I managed to go to a shop and buy some LavAzza. Rob had recommended it because I kept moaning about the poor selection of coffees in shops. The Italian LavAzza flatters itself as being the original Italian favourite blend suitable for all coffee makers. Cath tried it and said it's too bitter. My severe judgement was a bit more positive but our search for good coffee does not seem to have come to an end yet.
So what do you expect in a country that is typical for it's tea ceremonies? Not much. Darjeeling, yes, Earl Grey, yes. And so on and so forth. Hospitality in Yorkshire seems to boil down to sober remarks such as put the kettle on, Margaret or a cup o' tchaaa is waiting for you. Any Continental defense mechanism would, of course, fail. As an unmitigated coffee drinker I am not giving up my plan to finally sit in front of a cup of coffee that even the Queen would not reject.
My friend Carlos with his German and Latin American roots is Icelander and as such a coffee specialist. All his other talents may remain unmentioned but his reputation for producing a divine cup of coffee have crossed all borders. As an Icelander living in Switzerland he has little chance to enter history books as one of the World's outstanding coffee pioneers. But all his friends know what I am talking about.
Today we had an excellent meal in a country pub called Robin Hood. The Battered Haddock was delicious and the coffee was very respectable. One day, I am persuaded, this country from across the Channel will have become a veritable coffee paradise with an interesting choice of teas.
Today, on a Sunday I managed to go to a shop and buy some LavAzza. Rob had recommended it because I kept moaning about the poor selection of coffees in shops. The Italian LavAzza flatters itself as being the original Italian favourite blend suitable for all coffee makers. Cath tried it and said it's too bitter. My severe judgement was a bit more positive but our search for good coffee does not seem to have come to an end yet.
So what do you expect in a country that is typical for it's tea ceremonies? Not much. Darjeeling, yes, Earl Grey, yes. And so on and so forth. Hospitality in Yorkshire seems to boil down to sober remarks such as put the kettle on, Margaret or a cup o' tchaaa is waiting for you. Any Continental defense mechanism would, of course, fail. As an unmitigated coffee drinker I am not giving up my plan to finally sit in front of a cup of coffee that even the Queen would not reject.
My friend Carlos with his German and Latin American roots is Icelander and as such a coffee specialist. All his other talents may remain unmentioned but his reputation for producing a divine cup of coffee have crossed all borders. As an Icelander living in Switzerland he has little chance to enter history books as one of the World's outstanding coffee pioneers. But all his friends know what I am talking about.
Today we had an excellent meal in a country pub called Robin Hood. The Battered Haddock was delicious and the coffee was very respectable. One day, I am persuaded, this country from across the Channel will have become a veritable coffee paradise with an interesting choice of teas.
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