My eye was caught by a diary piece referring to ‘that thick, creamy thimble of caffeinated inspiration beloved of intellectuals like Jean-Paul Sartre’.
Well, maybe. But I do not remember espresso in the France of the 1950s & 1960s. Perhaps I was just too young – the really dark stuff not suitable for children.
I remember much more clearly the very large cups, almost the diameter of a cereal bowl, full of very weak milky coffee into which you dunked your croissant.
