Some Reasons I Love Coffee
I love my coffee. A tad of an obsession, maybe. Especially as I roast my own, which makes me more than a little fussy about what I drink.
But then, when travelling it gives me an excuse to try different types around the world, such as at a street side stall in Vietnam.
Espressos are my favourite, or perhaps a macchiato. (Macchiato comes from the Italian for corrupted - it is essentially an espresso corrupted by a dash of hot milk.) It doesn't make sense to me to hide the flavour of a good coffee by voluminous amounts of milk.
In true Italian style, a strong coffee comes with a shot of water (usually sparkling) to cleanse the palate. I first came across this in Naples, and have been appreciative ever since.
Then there is Japanese coffee, which so often comes in a can from a vending machine. But with a little sleuthing, I found the cult of Japanese coffee dens. A long way from where coffee began in Ethiopia.
Ah, a true espresso with a rich crema. The way a coffee should be.