10:20 am, April 10, Nude Espresso, Hanbury St., London:  A fellow cafenatic admires the proportions of his flat white (what New Zealanders and Australians call their less-milky latte). He laments that lattes back home in Eastern Europe are whipped-cream-topped confections served in a short-stemmed, ring-handled glass. I recognize that glass as a mazagran, which, like the dollop of schlagobers, is still served in the classic coffeehouses of Mitteleuropa. But only now, in what I will henceforth refer to as my Good Friday eureka moment, do I grasp that the mazagran holds the key to a mystery that has baffled thousands for decades. Okay, perhaps that’s a slight overstatement. Let’s call it a mystery that has baffled me for months: How did the eggnog liqueur coffee drink featured in the grand cafés of Prague as well as my new book, Coffee Love, get the name Alžírská káva – “Algerian coffee?”

According its Wikipedia entry, the mazagran took its name from the Algerian town of that name:

A battle took place there in 1840 between French soldiers and Algerians and the legend says that during the night, the 123 besieged French soldiers drank coffee laced with brandy. It is a glass or cup on a foot, optionally also with a handle and a short stem. 

That only explains how a boozy coffee got the name “Algerian.”  But the unresolved part of this mystery is sure to frustrate scores of scholars for years to come. Okay, maybe I alone will lose a little sleep over it: Which Czech barista came up with the brilliant idea of replacing brandy or whiskey (think Irish coffee) with cloyingly sweet, jarringly yellow eggnog liqueur?