A perfect summer holiday requires perfect coffee

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Posted by: Newswalle

For a long time, a friend of mine has built his summer holidays almost exclusively to a single restaurant, to get back to the same place year after year, a full and liberal use of their delicious menu. I used to wonder about it. The crab sandwiches sounded excellent, and cod and chips. But sometimes I wonder if they do not always plan the urge to take a trip to something other than this wonderful coffee. Has not he ever crave picturesque ruins or a good gallery? What is walking? After a long walk, I'm usually so hungry, whether potatoes are local, organic and free-range chicken, seems almost matter (emphasis on almost). It is, however, I was missing the point. When I found out the other weekend, is not it CAFF can immensely improve travel; is that they can do. Should be done fortiori who stumble him by accident.

We were in Sussex for the national holiday, and we had made a reservation at a pub in East Dean, a people who, when I searched on Google, which seemed to be bright near the sea at Birling Gap and left Miss Marple (in fact, has a connection to another famous detective, allegedly the place where Sherlock Holmes retired). The plan was that we eat a huge hot breakfast in the pub, walk all day, and then go out at night for dinner or Alfriston Eastbourne, or perhaps even to the Curlew in Bodiam, where some young man made exciting things supposedly moderate foam. But then the plan went wrong. On one side were hot breakfast not up to snuff. In addition, the weather was mostly good freakishly so we could be out all day. Result: noon, I could have eaten a ranch.

I had seen the Beehive Cafe and Deli on the Green, and had not been very encouraging. I could not see how such a small town like East Dean could be a one stop shop for eye-catching bottles Italian olive oil and Spanish tuna cans, both of which could assist you in your window. (Question: Who buys these really huge cans of tuna Ortiz, and what the hell they have to do with them) But when we moved to our first lunch in her cheeks pink flamingo strip and boots, such as aircraft load on feet realized I at the time who tell me that the sacred word "coronation chicken" had just Panettone. The Hive is small; I guess you could up to 15 people (although there are tables outside and green fell forward). However, the owners have tried to think of all the same. Your deli, with its unique and probably hard to please customers (Kia-driving travelers Eastbourne, snowy-haired members of the groups to Beachy Head, marauding militias of the South Downs) seems to me to be the Platonic ideal of a 21 – caff century. For those who have something to take home: cheese and yogurt, good ham and bread, homemade cakes and brownies (also, chicken coronation above, at least I could have eaten until I was sick elegant chocolates). Require Meanwhile, for those who support, to climb the lighthouse the Belle Tout: Cheese and onion burgers, sandwiches bacon, sausage rolls, raspberry ripple ice cream. Oh, yes. The coffee is good too.

The beehive made our weekend. We plan our days around. If it was sunny, it was a source of lemonade; when a downpour seemed to be on the way, we have opted for tea and scones. It was not cheap, but it was not expensive, and the owners made smiley clear that they are perfectly happy for us to sit there and read the newspapers, which had provided; or complaint about our boots. In return, they not only got our usual, but our gratitude also to explain what had to be seen pretty pathetic, the UK remains a country in which you hope to travel – at least when it comes to cafes and restaurants – only to arrive and discover that the dear little place with formica tables yellow, the expected served just landed haddock or lobster just smash cervelats, frozen pizza and cola Panda. I think that is a substitute, in the sense that their canned tomatoes were in Tuscany, or anywhere, and displayed on the shelves of Jamie Oliver style instead heated and served on toast. But certainly better replacement stinking edible oil and spilled Tizer – and to be clear, I write as someone who really loves Tizer.

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