Tuesday, October 17, 2006

coffee deserves respect..


making and drinking coffee is a real 'culture' in my country..
like the japanese tea ritual..we have the coffee ritual..
the turkish coffee has a much lighter colour.. and it is grounded thinner.. then the continental coffee..
you have to start by putting your coffee ground in cold water and adding the sugar at this moment..


you have to use a small long handled pot for preparing your coffee..
the fire must not be too hot.. because if it is cooked in a hurry.. the smell and taste will not be good..
you have to wait..while it gets ready.. you have to be right there.. this is experience talking.. coffee loves to surprise..
whenever you will turn your head.. or get lost in dreams.. it will boil over.. flood on the oven..
and the creamy bubbled part.. which is important for a good coffee.. will spill away.. don't hope it will not be noticed..
everyone will know at the first look .. you spilled the coffee..
if you boil it for a long time .. the bubbles will disappear.. but the taste being different.. they will know..it is not spilled but overboiled.. both are disgracious offer..
so you have to be there..right in front of the oven.. attentive.. to serve it in those small coffee cups.. just in time.. and you have to serve it with cool drinking water.. because the last sip of coffee will have some grind in it.. and people like to take a sip of water after they swallow their coffee..

there is a saying in my country to show the importance of coffee.. it says'' a cup of coffee deserves respect ( consideration ) for 40 years..

well if you have to concentrate in what you do.. and spend your time in doing something.. this is true that iy is worthy.. and respectable..and so are .. good relations..

I read an article today.. about coffee's importance in our lives..

*every cup coffee.. does'nt taste the same..it changes.. according to.. the person with who you drink..or the place where you drink..
*when you are sitting on the sea-side, on a windy day in autumn.... and sharing coffee with your best friend..who is crying from sorrow.. the taste is sad..the bitternes of her broken heart blends into the grounds of coffee..
*on a sunday afternoon.. the coffee you are preparing.. on your mother's request..'come on.. make a coffee..let us drink it together'.. tastes like serenity.. the bubbles over the coffee are reflected in your mother's eyes..
it leaves a fair smile.. at the corner of your mouth..
* in the middle of the night.. the coffee of a drunken man.. tastes like the effort of someone for climbing out of a deep well.. it feels as if you were holding the coffee-colored dense rope.. and you fall asleep.. as soon as you get out.. it tastes like ..relief..
*sharing coffee with your friends.. is joy.. laughters dance over the bubbles..
*late in the night.. alone on the balcony.. the coffee tastes like.. loneliness.. it is bitter.. but involves a different feeling.. of leisure..
*coffee you make for your father.. is full of love.. it doesn't look like coffee.. but it is hot.. steaming hot.. and the odor..is magic..
*a coffee served to you.. at an inexpected time ..is different.. it warms your heart ..
*when you are tired.. coffee makes you feel better.. and takes away the weight of the day..
*it might be the same coffee.. similar bubbles.. colour.. steam.. smell.. but every coffees you drink is absorbed and processed by your soul..and tastes.. different..
that is why..every coffee is not the same..

I remember the days we had coffee with my mother..
she was a tea person.. but now and then when she wanted a special time with me.. she came to my room's door.. and I still can see her there.. when I close my eyes.. her blue eyes shining as if within inside..joyful..
a faint of smile on her mount.. telling me.. I will not cook it..
first I didnot understand it.. what mother..?? what will you not cook..
coffee.. she answered.. and I said OK..I'll do it..
and we named the coffee.. I- won't-cook-it..sometimes my father answered us..OK I'll do it..
and this was a precious time..I don't share those dear moments.. this joke of 'I-wont-cook-it' with anyone now.. I'm waiting for my kids being old enough..
in the mean time I share my coffee with my friends.. my patients.. my lonely morning hours.. but I noticed I don't drink turkish coffee as frequently as used to do.. because the preparation takes a long time and attention.. which deserves waiting for a special time..

with whom do you share your coffee with???...


6 comments:

Mrs. Staggs said...

Well, this morning I am sharing my first cup with you!
Coffee has always played an important role in my life and the "pot" was always on in my extended family life, as I grew up in a large extended family where everyone was always dropping by and visiting with one another, especially at my grandmother's house. The scent of coffee reminds me of the hospitality found within her home especially.
This was a lovely post.I've enjoyed it very much. Thank you!

dogfaeriex5 said...

i have the fondest memories of staying at my baba's and waking up to her percolator perking away and the smell of coffee filling the house..i still love that smell and can so tell the difference in mr coffee and a good ole percolator..my aunt has the percolator now and the thing still is going and there is always the surprise of coffee grounds in the bottom of every cup..nice memories..
xox

dogfaeriex5 said...

i have the fondest memories of staying at my baba's and waking up to her percolator perking away and the smell of coffee filling the house..i still love that smell and can so tell the difference in mr coffee and a good ole percolator..my aunt has the percolator now and the thing still is going and there is always the surprise of coffee grounds in the bottom of every cup..nice memories..
xox

Connie and Rob said...

You have brought back some fond memories for me...The early morning was where to find my mother and father in the kitchen just lit by the flame on the stove. They too were waiting for their coffee. I would always go in and discuss anything and everything. It was our time. We would always whisper not to wake the older kids up.

Coffee is a tradition is many families and I really enjoyed your story. Thank you for sharing.

Hugs,
Connie

Jackie said...

What a lovely post! I used to love the smell of coffee in the percolator on the stove at my grandma's. I never drank coffe until I was in college. Now I really love it and my sweet husband brings me a cup of coffee (a latte) in my favorite polka dot cup almost every morning. It is his ritual to make it for me. Now my kids want to help make it too, so hopefully we can all share coffee someday.

One Crabapple said...

WEll I would like to share my coffee with you !

The part you wrote about each cup of coffee being different is so true. I loved seeing it written down this way and I had not thought of it conciously as being this way - but it is TRUE !

hmmm. I am not sure about my success in making the coffee well enough to serve after reading this. I guess I will stick to serving TEA as I seem to do that pretty well.

Sunday MOrnings my Sweet Boyfriend and I share coffee together. He drinks every day but I cannot have it everyday. ON Sundays he fixes me the special brews of decaffinated coffees he brings home in my honor....It is sweet and even if I have already made my tea, the look of him all happy to make the coffee and present me with a cup makes me just push the teacup quietly aside and go follow him in to read the paper or watch the television while we sip and yes SLURP our coffee together.
(with LOTS of cream for me!)