"Kahve Bahane Sohbet Şahane"
In other words, coffee is just the excuse to gather for conversation.
There are so many reasons I dream of returning to our life in Turkey. From living next to the Aegean Sea to the family we miss dearly, inevitably, a familiar sentence sneaks into our conversation, “What if we move back…?” While Texas has been kinder to us than expected, there's a certain ease of connection that I deeply long for. Throughout our nearly three years in Dallas, we've cherished our community, building relationships over delicious dinners, themed parties, concerts, backyard BBQs, and the like. Yet, nothing quite compares to the pleasure of sharing Turkish coffee with friends in the afternoon. I miss the relaxed atmosphere of those moments and the justification Turkish coffee provided for coming together.
You might think Turkish coffee is a morning pick-me-up, but that's not how I regularly consumed it while living in Turkey for nearly seven years. For us, mornings usually start with filtered coffee (V60) or piping hot cups of Turkish tea (çay). Turkish coffee, conversely, is more of an afternoon or evening beverage that signifies intentional time with friends or family.
Coffee is the excuse to come together, but really, it’s about the conversations, bonding, and gossip that take place. You might wonder, "Isn't that just a coffee date?" and my answer would be, "Not exactly." Being invited to someone's home out of the blue in the afternoon feels like a treat. It's a laid-back way to entertain: low effort, high connection. You aren’t surrounded by others typing away on their laptops or baristas yelling the random names of completed latte orders. Instead, you are surrounded by family pictures, cherished items, and plush pillows.
The hospitality culture surrounding the preparation and consumption of Turkish coffee is as rich and deep as the flavor of the coffee itself. When guests enter the home of a Turkish family, Turkish coffee is prepared specifically to your liking. The host must ask if you want no sugar (sade), just a little sugar (az şeker), a medium amount of sugar (orta ), or a lot of sugar (şekerli).
A few minutes later, little Turkish coffee cups, shot glasses of water, and a bowl of sweets (chocolate or Turkish delight) are crammed onto a tray and passed around to the room from oldest to youngest. The little glass of water, paired with the coffee, cleanses the mouth before sipping. People intermittently sweeten their palate with Turkish delight (lokum) or chocolate.
After relocating to America, I've yearned for the familiar ritual of being invited by a Turkish aunty or friend to savor a cup of Turkish coffee. Though not quite the same, I found solace in befriending Melis Aydoğan, a first-generation Turkish-American from Cincinnati. Melis is passionately spreading the social significance of Turkish coffee through her business, Rüya, which aptly translates to 'dream' in Turkish. She sells coffee beans, brewing equipment and even has a “Turkish Coffee Starter Kit.” This starter kit includes a bag of super finely ground Rüya coffee, an ibrik (or cezve) to cook the coffee, and a decorative coffee cup and saucer. In the kit, you will also receive a guide on brewing to walk you through the process.
While we have yet to meet in person, I am in awe of Melis’s passion for sharing the role of Turkish coffee not only in relation to her personal family history but also in the broader cultural context of the Turkish/Central Asian region. “Five hundred years in the making, Turkish coffee is the first brewing method ever,” Melis elaborates. “Even sultans and sultanas of the Ottoman Empire sipped on Turkish coffee.”
According to Özlem Warren, a UK-based Turkish chef, “Coffee was first cultivated at the southern edge of the Arab peninsula, but it was via Turkey that the fame of coffee spread to Europe. Within just a few years of its introduction to Europe, hundreds of coffee houses sprung up in Istanbul alone, and coffee drinking became such an important part of daily and ceremonial life that the Sultan’s coffee set was carried during royal processions.” In affluent households, it was customary for a dedicated servant to be responsible solely for the preparation of coffee. According to the laws of the time, the failure of a husband to provide his wife with coffee was considered sufficient grounds for divorce.
This history of coffee is deep, wide, long, and rich. I am hardly able to scratch the surface of this article. That said, I would recommend watching the video below which focuses on espresso culture but also the transport of coffee throughout the world.
For more details on how to brew the coffee, please see Rüya’s instructions below.
Seven Steps to Brew Turkish Coffee:
By Melis Aydoğan
Fill your Turkish coffee cup with cold water, then pour water into your Ibrik.
Mix 2 teaspoons of Rüya’s Supa Fine Turkish Grind coffee.
If desired, mix in sugar now; Turks never add it after brewing
Put your ibrik on medium heat, let it boil up, and allow it to bubble up to the top of the ibrik. No need to stir. One boil for the crema to reach the top of the ibrik is enough to get the perfect first sip. As my grandmother would say, “Sleep cannot be without a blanket as coffee without foam.”
Immediately pour the coffee into your small Turkish coffee cup, letting the grounds settle.
Take care not to drink the grounds. Our coffee, like our people, is unfiltered.
As the Turkish proverb goes, if your Turkish coffee tastes “Dark as hell, strong as death, and sweet as love,” then you got it right. Zing!
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World Central Kitchen’s José Andrés' NYT essay.
Stephen Colbert’s take on the attack on World Central Kitchen. Chef José Andrés: Food Is Not A Weapon Of War