Today, in an art-nouveau style cafe in the old town of Tallinn, a woman of not inconsiderable years made me a hot and strong cappuccino...just the way I like it. Last week, in a small coastal village in Sweden, a young girl made me a hot and strong cafe latte. Neither had probably ever trained at a barista academy.
In France, I watched a woman in a cafe ruthlessly murder a jug of mik by boiling it, cooling it in the refrigerator, returning 10 minutes late to boil it again, cool it again...and so on. I'm not sure what the purpose of this process was, but to me it illustrated the absolute horror of French coffee making.
Pourquoi?
When it comes to food, the French are meticulous in everything they do. Their pastries and bread are devine, their sauces silky, their markets full of wondrous fruits and vegetables, the cheeses sublime...and yet....the coffee is, by and large, horrible. Is it because to the French, milk is for making lovely cheese? Is it because they tend to favour robusta beans? Or a combination of both.
We searched blogs for suggestions of good coffee shops in Paris. We tried them. We will keep searching.
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