The pictures on the wall tell the story – they’re an homage to how the world was in 1954, the year that Pellegrini came to Melbourne and established his iconic coffee bar.
It was also the year I was born, and a small assortment of Italian-owned coffee bars were a favourite haunt of my mother and grandmother when they met, three times a week, to catch up in the industrial but self-proud Bolton of the pre-sixties. It explains a lot…


























