I knew this header would get your attention. Smooth and satisfying "International Roast", offered up in industrial catering-size cans, was an institution in every boarding-house in Australia in the 60s.
And so, on the odd occasion when I do take down that small 100g-sized tin and have another look at its 'Best before end July 2016' use-by date before scraping another blop of solidified instant coffee powder into a cup, I think of Barton House in Canberra, the grand old mansion at the bottom of Blues Point with its views of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, the Oriental Private Hotel at Cremorne, and the Majestic Hotel in St Kilda.
And I remember the best cup of coffee I've ever tasted when I was sailing way offshore from Port Moresby back in 1974. I was the internal auditor for AIR NIUGINI, and when I wasn't flying to one of the country's remote airstrips, I would take my sixteen-foot Corsair out for a spin on Fairfax Harbour (it's a three-handed racer but since my days in Honiara where I owned my first Corsair, I'd been sailing it single-handedly).
On this particular day, I had sailed well past Gemo Island and was halfway to Daugo Island. Totally knackered and very, very thirsty, I blindly groped for a drink in the stowage compartment, only to realise that I had left my esky full of drinks in the car back at the yacht club, and it would be several more hours before I got back there again!
So where does "International Roast" come into all this, I hear you ask? Well, not only was I thirsty but also knackered and I needed a rest when I saw a tiny island some distance away. I immediately changed tack and on reaching it and having beached my boat, I encountered a group of locals who were sitting around an open fire and brewing what smelled like coffee. I asked for a cup of it and, although it wasn't "International Roast", it was the smoothest and most satisfying cup of coffee I've ever tasted. Amazing what memories a simple cup of coffee can bring back.
