Italy

We picked this one up on a cheeky trip down to Puglia over Brexit Friday – with the misguided idea that we would get stuck down there in the sun and not have to hear any more of the tedious witterings of Mark Francois (it turns out there IS someone worse than Farage). However, it turned out that Brexit would be the continuing balls up it was always going to be – which luckily meant we could get back to Blighty to escape the unseasonable bollocking cold and pissing down rain. Now, when shopping in an Italian supermarket it’s a bit of a shock to see one whole aisle devoted to pasta, and another to coffee. So which one to go for was a bit of a lucky dip – avoiding all the big names we can get here at home, we ended up with this - just becuase it was a cheapy (about 2 euros). It’s the usual Euro brick that explodes when you jab in the knife – but to hell with it – we’re used to it. Italian coffee normally hits the spot for us just because there’s no mucking about – just make and glug. They don’t even bother with any marketing superlatives on the side of the packets – all their marketing people presumably spend their lives just hanging around on street corners astride vintage Vespas sporting enormous sunglasses. What more is there to say about this, after all, other than just “coffee”?  The trick with an Italian though is not to over do it. You get a lot of punch from a little coffee – and this one is no exception. Go easy with the spoon and you’ll get a strong as hell punch in the throat. Over do it and you’ll be coughing up al dente fettucine. Even at a weaker than normal dose we could still get a taste of charcoal. But we don’t want to put you off – it’s perfectly gluggable – just not for the feint hearted. Even if you don’t like it, you can instead shove the block as far up Francois’s arse as possible, forcing him to carry a small piece of Europe around with him, wherever he goes. That's worth 2 euros of anyone's money. (7/10)

This is our second sampling from the new Lavazza range - and it's the top strength number fiver. As with all Lavazzas, it's based on Robusta beans which makes which in this case are darkly roasted - so this one was never going to be for the feint hearted. They suggest nuts and chocolate on the packet - but let's face it, there's none of that here. This is just a good old fashioned hard hitting coffee for those who like a pick me up so strong it would even get Pete Doherty out of bed before 9am. Strong though it may be - it's not harsh and there's no metallic after taste which is so often the case with the dark, Robusta roasts. We like it, so it's 8/10

This is everything you expect from an Italian espresso - dark, strong and a punch to the throat. To start with, this is a super fine grind, which means we're not just drinking infused coffee, but actual coffee grinds that have slipped through our caffetiere net. While this makes it strong, it does give it that slightly dry and grainy taste. The flavour though is pure Italian - like drinking a cup of charcoal from a forest fire at Lake Garda. However, if this is putting you off, don't let it. This stuff tastes fabulous. Strong and dusty it might be, but it slides down like oil on velvet. We should really try it in a machine rather than a plunger. But we cant - because we've already had the bleedin' lot. Don't know what it costs as Rombouts sent it to us a a little pressie - but it must be the cheaper end, as it's an industrial looking tin. 8/10

This was edible - that's about all we can say. Mainly becuase when we opened it, most of it ended up on the floor due to the stupid packaging.