Coffee
As I write, I’m sitting in a wine bar. No great deal you might say, though I should point out that I live in a small industrial town in West Yorkshire (or ‘une petite ville industriale dans le Nord d’Angleterre’ as we were always taught in French lessons) and that wine bars here are generally frowned upon as one might frown upon a new strain of ebola.
However, I digress. Personally I’m cosmopolitan enough (on the grounds of six weeks once spent in London) to embrace our wine bar and the change it allows from the usual cat’s piss masquerading as house red that this town generally serves up. What depresses me is that it also means we have an establishment that prides itself on serving 'coffee' yet has nothing by way of that name on its menu.
I can see Expresso (dubiously spelled, yet present), Cappuccino, Latte of various sizes, Mocca, Choaccino (whatever the slippery fuck that may be) and Latte specials with too many optional flavours to list. Coffee Hot Shots, Steamers, Alco Steamers and even an Alco Steamer Special which I’m tempted to try solely because it looks to have a higher alcohol content than the plonk.
But no coffee!
Now I’m sure that they’ll do me a nice cup of black percolated (no sugar) if I ask but that’s not the point. T’would be nice to see the original given equal billing with these pretentious upstarts. What can I say – I’m a sentimental like that.
