Re: Has coffee lost some of the "why we drink itne
My coffee is about good taste, good fun and good food. In particular I remember, before light, one morning being prodded awake by my uncle. I was on holidays in Italy and we had agreed to go mushroom hunting the night before. After getting dressed, we were in the car and down to the local Bar. A quick chat to the Bar man, an espresso and we were on our way again.
Stopping at another Bar for breakfast/lunch at a village at the base of the Tuscan mountains the Barmaid pulled out some of the local cheeses and salami which we enjoyed as we waited for other friends to join us. What with the flirting, the food, the banter and another fine coffee, I was in heaven.
Soon we were between the trees looking for those glorious mushrooms. Five men in knee high boots and ski poles for stability screaming to one another, heres one, one here too,... they were everywhere. Our sacks were full in no time.
That night, my uncle his friends and I cooked up a dinner storm for the town’s sports club with the main course a mushroom pasta dish to die for. And yes, in amongst the conversation about the days hiking, driving, the flirting, and the cooking, I finished off my meal with another espresso.
Boy I slept well that nigh in my Tuscan bed. What a day!
F.
My coffee is about good taste, good fun and good food. In particular I remember, before light, one morning being prodded awake by my uncle. I was on holidays in Italy and we had agreed to go mushroom hunting the night before. After getting dressed, we were in the car and down to the local Bar. A quick chat to the Bar man, an espresso and we were on our way again.
Stopping at another Bar for breakfast/lunch at a village at the base of the Tuscan mountains the Barmaid pulled out some of the local cheeses and salami which we enjoyed as we waited for other friends to join us. What with the flirting, the food, the banter and another fine coffee, I was in heaven.
Soon we were between the trees looking for those glorious mushrooms. Five men in knee high boots and ski poles for stability screaming to one another, heres one, one here too,... they were everywhere. Our sacks were full in no time.
That night, my uncle his friends and I cooked up a dinner storm for the town’s sports club with the main course a mushroom pasta dish to die for. And yes, in amongst the conversation about the days hiking, driving, the flirting, and the cooking, I finished off my meal with another espresso.
Boy I slept well that nigh in my Tuscan bed. What a day!
F.


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