Café? (Day 47)

I think it was in Portugal that I first had coffee, in the hotel restaurant back when I was sixteen. It was a thrilling new experience. Neither of my parents drank coffee, even my grandparents had given it up for years. Like martinis, it was something that people drank in all the books I read, and so I, too, wanted to drink them. The coffee was au lait, and I spooned about seven scoops of hot chocolate powder into it before I could manage to drink it. But I could still taste the bitter bean brew behind all that. I had never felt so sophisticated.

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