The Cemetery of Bitter Beans and Burnt Lips

Ok so I’ve tried it all. I’ve searched high and low. Down cobblestone alleys and backyard lanes, frilly little tea rooms to modern ‘house’ banging bars, the occasional and unwilled cup from the devil chain collection dominant on every street corner, the chilled out cup form the cool look café and also, in fact, a cup of the acclaimed ‘best in the UK.’

I’ve attempted Americano’s and burnt tongues and lips on many lattés. On the advice of a fellow coffee lover and permanent resident to the UK I even partook in a cappuccino, a once thought of sin in the coffee world, as apparently they are not as bad as the rest (but this turned out to be misleading advice and lead me to drown in a pile of chocolaty airy madness.) I’ve tried macchiato’s with hope, even the odd espresso aiming for at least a caffeine kick if nothing else, but I guess it’s hard to get a caffeine kick when the caffeine is literally burnt out of the poor little thing.

So I’m afraid it’s true, all the rumours are true and correct- the Brit’s just don’t do good coffee (OK there is one exception I have come across and you will find it in London’s Covent Garden and the amazement of the Borough markets, you know where I mean if you desire the sensation of the luxurious and exotic feast of the senses that is ye old’ coffee)

Hang on hang on, so who I am to make such harsh judgements of the brewing, roasting and well burning habits of the Brits? Well, the answer is no one really. Just a coffee fiend from Melbourne Australia and no, I do not claim that my knowledge is higher or better but for the sake of the global community of coffee appreciation and the simple acknowledgment of the perfect hit, I feel the need to speak out on behalf of it. It seems unfair that a place the size of the UK is serving such bitterly obscene coffee. It hurts my heart to think of all the passionless sips being taken right now, the burnt lips and bitter beans, oh it’s just too much.

I admit I am a spoilt little coffee bug coming from Melbourne, where perhaps the European influence or maybe the influx of the best barista’s in the world (the cheeky Kiwi’s) have made our coffee culture one of the yummiest, greatest and talented in the western world. It’s rare that you get a really bad coffee in Melbourne town. Even the poorer quality cups could be taken as a great sip in Britain. In Melbourne, espresso machines are barista’s babies and not any one can walk on into a café job without knowing the fine tuning and skill involved in this institution. And no, you cannot read it in a manual you pick up while taking ’coffee training’ at your local Costa Coffee or Pret-A-Manger. It’s a passion, a love, an art- oh it’s just fantastic.

And it’s just so not here. I have drawn many conclusions from my astringent and quite painful research but the one that makes most evident sense, is the possibility that the lovely and greatly appreciated cup of tea is so popular and indented in UK culture because the alternative is, well, simple dire.

So what to do about this elaborate dilemma? The answers to this are involved, longwinded and a little aggravating. You see, it seems that the residents of the UK are quite happy with the standard of the little brown bean, it’s the thousands of Aussie’s and New Zealanders’ influxing the shores that are moaning and crying. So what to do?

Well we can keep supporting this social and awfully valuable research by continuing the long journey for the valued cup. To perhaps some dislike, we can slowly infiltrate our skill and knowledge into café’s across England, Scotland, Ireland, then eventually obtain world domination (he he he) Or we can suck it up, bite the bullet and succumb to the coffee culture in Britain. Always ask for milk on the side (never stemmed), smile on the first sip, say that it’s lovely while remembering that it‘s adding to your worldly and cultural ‘knowledge.’ Also, keep in mind that one day (unless you attach yourself to a Brit) you’ll be back in the arms of the perfect bean, the perfect sip, the perfect day, aghhhh.

Or you can just get over it and have a cup of tea.