After a string of mediocre coffees over the past week, things hit an all-time low when I was served the 'worst coffee ever' in the designer Café Vitra by Be Alain Ducasse at Printemps yesterday.This morning I snapped. I pulled on my boots, zipped my coat and strode out the door determined (note: desperate) to start my day with a decent latte, something we take for granted in Australia. I crossed the bridges over the islands like a woman possessed and in no time arrived in the heart of the Left Bank at Coutume Instituutti. Here in the Latin Quarter, right ...