My grumpiness has dissolved in proper coffee.

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I had coffee this morning. It was good, doc good that I had another. This is odd because good coffee seems to be just out of reach in cafes, but this one was perfect, so good that I wanted to take the barista home with me. It really is a thing most rare, to be able to serve up coffee that I like. I think it must be a gift, not just a matter of training or using particular beans. This man was truly gifted. He is Italian of course, genuine Italian I ascertained, and the people of Turin know their onions when it comes to coffee and it never comes out tasting of onions as often happens in cafes here. Sometimes I have to think hard to decide if it’s coffee or something else. But in this back street cafe in Sale, greater Manchester, there is no doubt. And the cannoli are spot on. I’m going to be reluctant to order coffee elsewhere now that I’ve tasted Pietro’s brew.