Coffee? Jakobs Kronung.
Now I have a real story!
My Dad was a slave labourer in Germany during WWII. In 1990's I could finally buy good coffees, and I made a cup of Jacobs Kronung to my Father. He had drunk it, thought a longer while, then commented:
-- Chicory... This coffee reminds me the times at the camp during the war...
:-)))
To cheer you up, my Dad had far too many memories of that kind. Once at a shop in Podkowa Leśna some lady was praising the bread of the Dworak bakery. My dad replied: Yea, the same bread as made here during WWII. The woman brighten up and said: Oh, yes, such great tradition, experience... My dad: Yea, they still make it from clay mixed with sawdust.
:-D
(fond of weak tea)
Believe it or not but until recently I had to privately import PG Tips from UK :-)