Where's your coffee been?
Here in Australia, we tend to take our 'over the counter' coffee as a given, and most of our coffee aficionados (i.e. almost all of us) expect to be able to buy, in almost any coffee shop, a good (no, excellent) cup of espresso coffee, served up by a well-trained barista, using a well-maintained and cleaned, shining, steaming, coffee bean grinding, marvel of an espresso machine. The most popularly drunk coffees in our Aussie cafe culture are milk based and sold as either a flat white, cappuccino, or caffe latte (reportedly comprising 82% of our cafe coffee orders), with an assortment of 'fringe order' drinks making up the balance (e.g. long or short black, long or short macchiato, vienna, ristretto, and various mocha or chocolate drinks).
Personally, my once a day indulgence, come hell or high water, is a flat white (in a mug not a cup, single shot, one sugar, full cream milk).
But today's coffee is a far fetch from the coffee reportedly first discovered in the eleventh century in Ethiopia, then exported to Yemen, onto Istanbul, Venice, Marseilles, Paris, Vienna, London, then, in the late seventeenth century, to America.
OK, guys, don't fall asleep on me! Grab a cup of coffee! Stay with me!
Every once in a while, while indulging in my daily treat, I'll think back to when I was originally introduced to a quite different coffee (or rather Arabic 'qahwah') culture by bedouin nomads, in the 1970s, when I was London based and tripping to and from the Middle East on a regular basis (some 80% of the time).
Back then I would find myself, more often than not, in the desert somewhere, driving around in an open topped Landcruiser or Landrover, across the coastal sabkha salt flats, or the majestic high dune country, in remote areas of Kuwait, Qatar, Abu Dhabi, Dubai, or Saudi Arabia, taking soil samples for later laboratory testing. In retrospect, these days were special. I was fortunate enough to visit these countries when much of the initial 'western' infrastructure was still being constructed, well before the days of spectacular multi-story complexes, freeways, shopping malls, indoor man-made snow ski runs, and tourism.
But most of all, I remember the hospitality of the bedouin desert dwellers, in stark contrast to the disassociation of the nouveau rich, oil boosted, city dwellers who were, by and large, our clients.
I fondly remember my excitement every time I encountered, in my sampling jaunts, dark goatskin tents, typically the size of a small wedding marquee, with a scattering of camels, hobbled or tethered nearby, even then more as a status symbol than a mode of transport, which was, like mine, a four wheel drive vehicle. I would invariably be flagged down as I approached the encampment, by some gaunt figure dressed in flowing robes, and invited to join the male occupants indoors out of the blazing desert sun.
Inside, the sandy ground was covered in a scattering of well worn woollen carpets, predominantly red and black in colour, intricately handwoven in almost faultless patterns (not entirely faultless, as only Allah is perfect), the kind that sold for a small fortune back in London as Persian or Turkish rugs. Here, cups of strong black coffee were drunk, thick as tar and silty on the tongue, freshly brewed on a camp fire and poured from a large copper (or possibly brass) long spouted traditional pot into small, white, handleless, porcelain cups. I quickly learned the etiquette of always stopping to accept their hospitality, never pointing my hands or feet at anyone, and, most importantly of all,
You must accept a minimum of three cups, one after the other, and then (and only then) may you indicate you have had enough, by turning the empty cup upside down, while gently shaking it from side to side and saying "shukran" (thank you).
I spoke little or no Arabic and the nomads no English, but this didn't inhibit conversation, which was invariably animated by hand gestures and occasional hilarity. I was fascinated by their traditional robes, and by the 'keffiyah' head-dress, often checkered red and white, and held in place on the crown of the head by an 'agal' or circlet of thick black rope. I also remember how we young brash foreigners, when socialising back home in the big smoke, would somewhat irreverently refer to this typical arabic headwear as the 'dish towel and fan belt'.
Back in London, in between trips, I tried to re-ignite the special coffee experience by inviting guests to partake, after dinner, in Arabic coffee (or Turkish coffee as many preferred to call it back then). The finely ground rich black powder, which I had bought as a blend in the souk (or bazaar) before flying back, was often flavoured with ground cardamon seed. I would make the thick silty brew using a small stainless steel long handled utensil, over the gas stove. The taste, smell and consistency of the liquid were similar, but the magic of the desert was missing, and this suburban routine only made me long to return to the shifting sands, to mingle with those colourfully dressed, hawk-eyed aboriginals, with their haunting features, and dry, crinkled skin, burnt black from years of exposure to the blazing sun and blinding wind storms.
Life was much simpler then and our world a bigger place, full of wondrous sites to explore and uniquely different people, waiting to stretch out a hand in greeting.
...............................................................................................
When not analysing consulting issues, or reminiscing about the past, I chase my creative side, the results of which can be seen as selected photographs of my travels on my website at:
http://ken-boddie.squarespace.com/">http://ken-boddie.squarespace.com
The author of the above, Ken Boddie, besides being a consulting engineer, is an enthusiastic photographer, rarely leisure-travelling without his Canon, and loves to interact with other like-minded photographers and people with an artistic background.
Ken's three day work week (part time commitment) as a consulting engineer allows him to follow his photography interests, and to plan trips to an ever increasing list of countries and places of scenic beauty and cultural diversity.
"
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Comments
Ken Boddie
2 years ago #65
I reckon it’s folly at my age to overindulge in anything strong and black, @John Rylance, whether in a mug or between the sheets. 😂🤣😂
Ken Boddie
2 years ago #64
I didn’t spend much time in Saudi, @Renée 🐝 Cormier , although I worked all round Kuwait, South Iraq, Qatar, Bahrain and the Emirates. But I guess cardamon is popular as an additive throughout Arabia. I had to kick the habit of drinking thick black Arab/Turkish blends in the end, for health reasons, but I enjoy my one daily flat white now with no hyperactivity.
John Rylance
2 years ago #63
In honour of your recycling the coffee piece, I resurrect a quote I posted at the time.
It was a Turkish proverb. Coffee should be as black as he'll, strong as death, sweet as love.
I would add this observation made by Jonathan Swift.
It is folly of too many to mistake the echo of the coffee house for the voice of the kingdom.
Ken Boddie
2 years ago #62
Here’s to beBee, Alberto …
Little by little,
Bit by bit,
You look after IT,
And I’ll have a coffee hit.
😂🤣😂
Neil Smith
2 years ago #61
Nice. This is a bit of a ‘Greatest hits’ selection at the moment. Cheers Ken.
Alberto Landeras Rivas
2 years ago #60
Little by little everything is working better
Javier Cámara-Rica 🐝🇪🇸
2 years ago #59
thanks @Ken Boddie for your feedback CC @Alberto Landeras
Ken Boddie
2 years ago #58
I managed to retrieve the original photo from this old post, @Javier 🐝 CR , and so it looks like the editing facility for old posts is back up and running again. Muchas gracias!
Ken Boddie
2 years ago #57
I've retrieved this oldie, as it's really time we all had a half decent cup of Aussie coffee, since the mountain won't come to Mohammed. These days mine's a flat white, double shot, one sugar, full cream milk, espresso, and make sure that damned camel hasn't spat in the cup.
Ken Boddie
6 years ago #56
agreed, Franci! Turkish, Arabic, Greek, Cuban, Kenyan, Brazilian ..... so many styles and blends ..... so little time! As for the “interesting comments” ..... so frustrating that all posts now have annoying random gaps in the comments trail and that the upper echelon appears to be non responsive to queries on what’s going on! Again, Javier \ud83d\udc1d beBee, what’s the problem with the missing comments and are there any attempts being made to fix this? Our comments and interactions are the essence of beBee and when they disappear such interaction is stifled.
Lada 🏡 Prkic
6 years ago #55
The same was with the tank base near Mosul that my firm constructed at the end of the 1980s.
Ken Boddie
6 years ago #54
..... and then, a couple of months after I left Basrah and returned to London, the camp I had been living in was bombed by the Iranians and all hell broke loose.
Ken Boddie
6 years ago #53
I also worked in Iraq, Lada, but in Basrah, not Bagdad. My memories of the late 70s there were of old buildings, date palms, smoking plugs of tobacco from a hookah (or water pipe) in lazy evenings with friendly locals while playing checkers or backgammon. The locals, however, were less relaxed in daylight, as Big Brother was lurking over many shoulders, Saddam Hussein had not long come to power.
Lada 🏡 Prkic
6 years ago #52
Ken Boddie
6 years ago #51
Thanks for stopping by, Debasih. Take time out to join me in a coffee next time.
Ken Boddie
6 years ago #50
A fitting proverb, John, for my younger days, when life appeared endless and my metabolism could take the awakening jolts that accompany many, many daily intakes of that silty black liquor laced with the spices of the East.
Debasish Majumder
6 years ago #49
John Rylance
6 years ago #48
Ken Boddie
6 years ago #47
But back then, John, my life was not “measured out” by Prufrock’s pedantically measured social graces. The call to share bedouin coffee was merely a temporary distraction and a welcome respite from the searing desert heat that, some days, fried the brain and warped the horizon in a shimmering mirage. But oh the colours at dawn and dusk, John.
Ken Boddie
6 years ago #46
the cups were very small, Gert, but the characters of the hosts were riveting and memorable.
John Rylance
6 years ago #45
Gert Scholtz
6 years ago #44
Sara Jacobovici
7 years ago #43
Ouch!
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #42
It's a while, Jim, since there were babies in our household, but I seem to remember, back then, the challenge was trying to get to sleep and stay asleep, not trying to stay awake with caffeine. You must have had perfect kids. Thanks for stopping by. 😃
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #41
Thanks for the inspiring comment, Praveen Raj Gullepalli. Incidentally, I have quite a few arabic rugs from my days way back, but I just can't get any of them to fly. Must be doing something wrong? 😂
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #40
Flattery gets you everywhere, Lisa. 😄
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #39
Ha Ha The cups were very small, Lisa Gallagher. You couldn't really stomach three full mugs of thick sludge. Probably be awake for days afterwards. 😳
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #38
I guess these days, Sara Jacobovici, you have to be careful you don't get your hand cut off when you stretch it out in greeting. 😃
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #37
Must admit, Phil Friedman, that the first time I had real hot chocolate (not the feline variety) was in Tasmania a couple of years back. There are so many chocolate specialty cafés in Oz now that it has become my favourite - next to coffee, of course. ☕️
Lisa Gallagher
7 years ago #36
profound and true statement made by Uncle Ken Boddie. Glad you highlighted that. By the way, the uncle thing is a joke by Ken. And, Ken- I meant to tell you I think your probably too young to be my uncle LOL!
Sara Jacobovici
7 years ago #35
Sara Jacobovici
7 years ago #34
Sara Jacobovici
7 years ago #33
Lisa Gallagher
7 years ago #32
Phil Friedman
7 years ago #31
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #30
Sorry, for 'test', read 'taste'. Your damned enema kicks in again, Kev. 😃
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #29
As they say, Kev, if you like kopi luwak, then your test is in your a.... 😂
Kevin Pashuk
7 years ago #28
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #27
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #26
Bill Stankiewicz
7 years ago #25
PS, practice your Kata every day with good bean drills...
Bill Stankiewicz
7 years ago #24
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #23
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #22
Bill Stankiewicz
7 years ago #21
Ken we will give you a 1st degree black belt in Coffee Culture. Sensi Ken. ケンは、私たちはあなたのコーヒー文化における第一度黒帯が得られます。センシケン。 Ken wa, watashitachi wa anata no kōhī bunka ni okeru dai ichi-do kokutai ga e raremasu. Senshiken. Best Regards & shared with my Japanese contacts in Tokyo.
Bill Stankiewicz
7 years ago #20
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #19
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #18
Dean Owen
7 years ago #17
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #16
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #15
Dean Owen
7 years ago #14
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #13
Bill Stankiewicz
7 years ago #12
Bill Stankiewicz
7 years ago #11
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #10
Dean Owen
7 years ago #9
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #8
Bill Stankiewicz
7 years ago #7
Ken, but no magic carpet here, only a few old motorcycles to ride to include a 1930's Brough Superior, HD Wide Glide, & a mint 1975 Suzuki 750GS
Bill Stankiewicz
7 years ago #6
Bill Stankiewicz
7 years ago #5
Dean Owen
7 years ago #4
Bill Stankiewicz
7 years ago #3
Ken Boddie
7 years ago #2
Bill Stankiewicz
7 years ago #1