I wandered down before to get my morning coffee. In my hand was a voucher for a free coffee leading me to somewhere different from where I usually go. It took me to a bar in a laneway with long rows of spirits on the rear wall. I’d been there a few weeks before, just checking it out. At that time I noticed a couple of large stainless steel barrels bolted to the wall advertising unpasteurised Carlton Draught. Now Carlton is not my beer of choice, but intrigued by it I made enquiries. At the back of my mind was an old bar in Queen street called the Snakepit that once advertised that it had shipped in its Heineken direct from Holland – and it was mighty good. And so I asked the question, and though it was only just past 8 am the bartender poured me a quarter glass to try out.

This time I fell into a conversation with the bar manager as he sniffed at some fresh cut mint leaves, exclaiming at the aroma. “All set for your mojito’s?” I said, by way of conversation. He nodded his head, and we fell to talking. Somewhere along the line, I mentioned the Caipirinha. “What’s that?” he said.

I was surprised. I thought everyone knew about the Caipirinha. I explained to him, it’s a tasty Brazilian cocktail, the key ingredient a Brazilian spirit called cachaca – like rum, sort of, but different. Great on a hot day. He was fascinated to the point of gratitude and promised to look into it.

What are they teaching in schools these days?