Coffee. Coffee is a mover. Coffee is the kick-off, the kick ass, kick-starter of the world. Coffee is good for you. Coffee is believed to have been invented in Yemen, around 700 years ago, and it is pound for pound, both currency and weight, the single most valuable invention in the history of the world.

The worst place in the world for a coffee today, I believe, is England. To begin with, the pound sterling is the best currency in the world. It is the strongest and the most valuable. You have £1 in your pocket? That immediately becomes more wherever you go. 1,40 €, $ 1,49. And don’t get me started on Japanese yen or Nok or Sek because I simply wouldn’t have the space here. This is all very good if you’re English, it isn’t if you’re not. This, translated and condensed, means that your currency is worth less, or worthless if you come from the EU, on English turf.

But it’s not the money I’m worried about. It’s the ponce-ness. The flimsy, twitchy, bitching, whimsical requests that replace the oxygen inside coffee places in Britain. It’s just plain ridiculous.

I’d like a mokka-chokka-frokka skinny latte with double milk mildly warm with an extra dash of cinnamon flavoured chocolate, please. May I just say that whoever invented this laughable options, also invented the splintery stick of wood you’re supposed to use to mix it. And the paper cup. Which absolutely murders the taste.

I’m sorry, I may have come out a little strong, but I’m Italian so when it comes to coffee I’m afraid that Startucks and Tosta, while they may be enormously wealthy, have lost the argument on coffee before it even begins.

Black, no milk, no sugar, no foam cup, no latte. In a demitasse.

That’s how it’s done