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.
