coffee

I love coffee. However, I love real coffee. I am sorry to say that, even though I have railed against snobbery on this blog, I am something of a snob when it comes to coffee. This must come from having lived in Spain for so long - when you could just walk into any bar and get a decent cup of coffee: of something that actually had some taste to it. 
If I go to people's houses and am offered a drink, as I don't like tea and usually can't be certain of the provenance of the coffee on offer, I normally opt for water or refuse a drink altogether. Instant coffee does not taste of anything that I can recognise as coffee. The same can be said of filter coffee, coffee from vending machines, anything that comes from a cafetiere (which,  I suppose is only a filter by any other name) or anything that does not involve pressure in the making of the brew. For it is pressure that makes a really good cup of coffee. And you don't need to buy an all-singing, all-dancing, Italian machine from one of the established brands in order to get a bit of pressure into your coffee. I bought a Presso manual coffee maker over the internet a few months ago and I would not be without it. It generates, according to their information, about 14 PSI. Which seems to be ideal to generate the legendary crema - the dense brown crown of foam that tops off a good cup of espresso. It delivers a powerful caffeine belt that is very welcome in the mornings and at any other time of the day when you might need a bit of a boost. I have not succumbed to the temptation of putting a shot of brandy in my espresso yet, but then again it is a bit cold this morning.