Espresso, Cappuccino, Americano, Flat White, Skinny Latte, Mocha, or Frappuccino
Which one do you choose? Have you ever wondered why you drink the one you do.
Mine is an Americano with cold milk and a jug of hot water. I have been known to enjoy a cup of filter coffee too, (although wrestling with the individual ones can be very stressful). Occasionally, for a change, I lose myself in the froth of a cappuccino.
In the 60s, my younger brother drank endless amounts of liquid Camp coffee … remember that iconic, nostalgic brand? Apart from a few subtle changes, the bottle looks the same today, as it did when it first appeared on our shelves in 1876. I am convinced my mother mixed this with the milk in his bottle. He is still totally hooked.
The first time the significance of coffee had an impact on my life was in the early 1970s. As students, we wrote our essays fuelled by cheap instant coffee and cut price biscuits. A group of us at a teachers’ training college in Hertfordshire had just heard the news. It was what we had been waiting for … WOW. Noel Edmonds was opening a new record shop nearby. Not to be missed. One of those occasions. My friend Sally, the original lateral thinker, grabbed our very large tin of instant coffee from the common room. She led us briskly down the street … we followed with more anticipation than the excitement of a first date.
All four girls squeezed into the smallest of spaces to see Noel. In our flared jeans, tie-dyed t- shirts and hippy beads, we bopped to Elton John’s ‘Crocodile Rock’, one of the chart sounds of 1973. The wonderful Noel Edmonds scribbled a good luck message on the side of the tin.
“Keep up the good work! Hope you become great teachers love Noel x”
So off we went, Sally still in control, newly motivated and inspired. And … of course a cup of cheap instant coffee suddenly became liquid heaven.
NEW YORK! NEW YORK! Don’t you just love that vibrant city. The energetic people; noisy yellow taxis; sparkling Times Square and the coffee…
I joined the queue of busy office workers, circling round the side of a lively, New York deli at eight o’clock in the morning.
“Next.”
“Coffee please.” Boy was I thirsty. “Just a cup of coffee”.
The waitress yelled in her New York drawl. “Just a cup of coffee?” Her desperate eyes gazed out for sympathy. “What kind of coffee?”
There was a collective gasp, a bit of a shudder. The line of workers collapsed like a pack of cards behind me. Panic set in. Sweat ran down my cheek bones. I hurriedly chose a coffee from her recited list. Off I slunk, suitably chastised, clutching my take-a-way frappuccino. Welcome to the ‘Big Apple’ Wendy.
In pursuit of my favourite beverage, I slowly saunter down Broad Street in Lyme Regis, to the Bell Cliff cafe on the right. The enchanting sea, sometimes still but often stormy, peeps out as you reach the bottom between the old buildings.
On a warm day, it is relaxing to sit outside by the old canon and black railings, overlooking Lyme Bay and the magnificent Jurassic Coast. Sometimes, I perch upon the cosy seat by the window inside. Tucked away, it is easy to find inspiration.
The owner of the cafe is the very friendly and delightful Paul Ranson, who took over fifteen years ago. Originally, this building was two fishermen’s cottages and was constructed from beams reclaimed from ships built in the seventeenth century.
The delicious coffee which I am addicted to is called Narobi American Filter. Paul feels that the type of water in an area can affect the taste. The soft water of Lyme Regis compliments the brand they use perfectly. As a customer I could not agree more.
Naomi, the manageress on the right, and Jayne the waitress are both very friendly and welcoming, especially when they are serving cake! Jayne told me an irresistible fact that seven years ago she married Chris, the man who delivered the coffee. A charming story.
As I enjoy my second cup, surrounded by yellow spring flowers in the window, the days of cheap instant coffee, flares, tie-dyed t- shirts and shaking hands with Noel Edmunds seem very far away.
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