CHEWING COFFEE BEANS
20-05-2024
17:10
Why have I been designing coffee cups and coffee ceremonies for so many years?
I go back to my childhood. In our house, roasted coffee beans were kept in a jar in the kitchen. When Turkish coffee was to be brewed, it was ground in a brass hand mill for the required number of people and then brewed. I remember that the smell of coffee always had a charm. The desire to taste it grew inside me along with the smell. Of course, Turkish Coffee was not given to children. I loved to lick the grounds from the coffee saucer without letting them know.
Phew! I always remembered that it tasted so good.
I always watched with interest as they turned the cup upside down for COFFEE FORTUNE and placed a thick ring on top of it to cool it down quickly. I never got tired of watching this ritual, which was done almost every time I had coffee. On the contrary, it was exciting to watch the shapes appearing in the cup like a magical game and to be a part of the lives of the adults by listening to their interpretations.
Even better was chewing roasted coffee beans. I loved that bitter, burnt taste!
Ah! I still remember the taste of the coffee beans I stole from the kitchen when I was a kid. I wonder if I've ever had a dessert like that before? Was it because it was made in secret or because I was really addicted to coffee? I don't know why, but when I think about those years, my mouth still glaze over and a happy smile spreads across my face.
I once saw my mother chewing roasted coffee beans instead of brewing coffee.
I started stealing coffee beans from a jar during my primary and secondary school years. During school lessons, I would hold them in my mouth for a long time, sucking on them, and then slowly chew them.
I probably would have liked it because it was something I did in secret, or maybe it was because kids weren't allowed that appealed to me, I don't know.
Secretly chewing coffee beans began to nourish my soul and enter my dreams without me even realizing it.
In the coffee rituals of our elders, if we, the children, insisted on coffee, a little Turkish Coffee with plenty of milk would be added to a thin-waisted tea glass and cooked. Turkish Coffee with milk had a different taste.
I go back to my childhood. In our house, roasted coffee beans were kept in a jar in the kitchen. When Turkish coffee was to be brewed, it was ground in a brass hand mill for the required number of people and then brewed. I remember that the smell of coffee always had a charm. The desire to taste it grew inside me along with the smell. Of course, Turkish Coffee was not given to children. I loved to lick the grounds from the coffee saucer without letting them know.
Phew! I always remembered that it tasted so good.
I always watched with interest as they turned the cup upside down for COFFEE FORTUNE and placed a thick ring on top of it to cool it down quickly. I never got tired of watching this ritual, which was done almost every time I had coffee. On the contrary, it was exciting to watch the shapes appearing in the cup like a magical game and to be a part of the lives of the adults by listening to their interpretations.
Even better was chewing roasted coffee beans. I loved that bitter, burnt taste!
Ah! I still remember the taste of the coffee beans I stole from the kitchen when I was a kid. I wonder if I've ever had a dessert like that before? Was it because it was made in secret or because I was really addicted to coffee? I don't know why, but when I think about those years, my mouth still glaze over and a happy smile spreads across my face.
I once saw my mother chewing roasted coffee beans instead of brewing coffee.
I started stealing coffee beans from a jar during my primary and secondary school years. During school lessons, I would hold them in my mouth for a long time, sucking on them, and then slowly chew them.
I probably would have liked it because it was something I did in secret, or maybe it was because kids weren't allowed that appealed to me, I don't know.
Secretly chewing coffee beans began to nourish my soul and enter my dreams without me even realizing it.
In the coffee rituals of our elders, if we, the children, insisted on coffee, a little Turkish Coffee with plenty of milk would be added to a thin-waisted tea glass and cooked. Turkish Coffee with milk had a different taste.