Nothing is sacred

At the University of Oxford, Prof Charles Spence, head of the Crossmodal Research Lab, has studied how much your experience of coffee is shaped by the way it is presented. In Nespresso adverts, he observed, coffee is almost always displayed in a transparent glass, with a crown of light crema on top of the drink. “It starts to look almost like a pint of Guinness,” Spence said. “Coffee doesn’t come with the visual variation you get in tea or wine – it’s all pretty much the same colour, so perhaps you have to show it with the crema.” (The crema is key to the mythology of espresso. Legend has it that the Italian company Gaggia coined the term in the 30s, rebranding something customers had previously thought of as “scum” on the top of their drink as “caffe creme”, a coffee so fine it made its own froth.)

From a great Guardian longread on Nespresso.

Ain't language grand

Ironically enough, the original “suburbs” were seen as dens of iniquity, not the placid avatars of decency as in the Trumpian imagination. The word suburb goes back to medieval times, when it developed a highly pejorative connotation to refer to areas outside the walls of London or other cities, where unseemly institutions—gambling holes, bordellos, slaughterhouses, and the like—were relegated. As the Oxford English Dictionary puts it, the words suburb and suburban early on were associated with “immoral or licentious practices.” In the 17th century, expressions such as suburb lechery and suburb sinner (meaning a prostitute) were common.
For Londoners, the “suburbs” didn’t start becoming more reputable until the early 19th century, when upwardly mobile city dwellers began to move to houses in the surrounding semirural regions. With the arrival of these social strivers, suburb and suburban began developing new associations of respectability, though that respectability was often portrayed as close-minded and complacent.

From The Atlantic.