Just watching a documentary (Timeshift on BBC4) about how food from other cultures helped make eating out a pleasure, and it's making me think about my own experiences.
London in the 1960s, the little Italian cafes and restaurants - and a fabulous gelateria on Tottenham Court Road. My mother's uncle owned a cafe in Soho and when we visited my sister and I would be presented with a steel dish full of lovely ice cream, while my Mum sipped a 'proper cup of coffee' - ie an espresso of wonderful quality, made in a huge, gleaming chrome machine that hissed and burbled in the most mysterious way. A big contrast to my Dad's occasional Vesta curry...!
