À la recherche du bon café - in search of a good cup of coffee




Latte Australian Style

  Before I even start, apologies to the long suffering Holly who has endured too many rants on this subject and is, without doubt, heartily sick of the whole thing.....

Okay.  I love it here. It is everything I hoped for,  and often more.  Apart from one thing.
The coffee is dreadful.  

I know that, at this point, my French readers (yes, there are, um,  several!) will snort in disgust and immediately delete this blog, or simply shrug and ignore (ça m’est égal).  However, this issue is not something I can ignore, and, for the first time, Folie Madame is having a tantrum. 

Cappuccino Australian Style

There is a certain time in the morning when a cup of coffee is just exactly what is needed. That wonderful aroma, followed by a delicious sip to relish the robust flavours of the bean, the staying power of the crema, the silkiness of the milk.  There could be a sprinkling of chocolate on top of a bouncy cappuccino or a hidden kick delivered by a finely crafted flat white.  A latte goes terribly well with a friande or toastie.  Maybe it's just an espresso and biscotte.  Delicious! 

Not for me, however, as I am living in the land of coffee indifference. It's true. The famous French discretionary palette does not apply itself to coffee.  It seems that pretty much any old thing will do, so long as it is black, served in a cup the size of a thimble, able to be drunk sitting at a café de la chaussée (pavement café), and - most importantly - chatting with friends. Apparently, the French view coffee as a subsidiary to a good seat in a café and its taste is immaterial (je m'en fous).  Coffee with milk is for children at breakfast time.  Wine is to be worshipped. Food is to be savoured. Fashion is to be respected.  Literature is to be admired.  Coffee is a means to an end.

Now, I enjoy a chat with friends in a café as much as the next person, but I don't see why it shouldn't be accompanied by a rocking cup of joe.  And I don't see why one of the most sophisticated cultures in the world wouldn't enjoy that, too.  Maybe I'm missing something. Maybe Starbucks missed something when they opened in Australia, then closed most of their outlets, due to their underestimation of the sophistication of the Australian coffee palatte.  Maybe France would enjoy a fabulous flat white or luscious long black? Maybe I'm barking up the wrong coffee bush.  What do you think, French readers? Do you care naught for my concerns or do you think the time is ripe for a lunatic fringe to introduce to French café society a crazy cup of coffee crafted entirely on taste?  For me, one thing is certain.  Australia should be very proud of its coffee cognoscenti.