Monday, May 19, 2003

Turkish Coffee

Girlyshit posted a recipe for Turkish Coffee.
It made me think about it.

I love Turkish Coffee.
Turkish Coffee when I was a kid had a ritual.
When ladies came to visit, it was immediate that my mother would get out the mlin and start grinding coffee. The mlin (or mill) was tubular and usually made of brass. The cups were small and the Jezva was ready.
All the items looked like this:

My mother's mlin, (one of two) I now have in my kitchen, had little scantily clad harem girls holding trays of steaming coffee carved into it, with men in turbans waiting cross legged on mats to be served.
It's actually quite beautiful. Maybe I'll photograph it and post it later.

The ladies would chat and gossip and I would be sent out of the room as soon as the ladies finished fawning over how big I was getting, how pretty I was becoming, how much I looked like so and so.
They were always loving and warm and called me sweet endearments.

Little did they know that I often hid under the dining room table with the long tablecloth hiding me, and listened to the gossip and girl talk.
I heard all kinds of things while the ladies enjoyed their coffee.
I heard curse words (my mother? Can you imagine?) and about pregnancy and sex.
Betrayal and husbands who were suspected of cheating. Women who were having affairs.
Listen, it was better than TV!

While the ladies chatted, there would usually be one lady who knew how to "read".
The women would finish their coffee and swish the grounds around in their cups and then turn them over like this:

My Tetka Ljuba used to do some reading, but you had to convince her.
She would deny that she knew anything...
"no...I don no natink...", she would say with both her hands in the air...then....just when you were about to give up....
"ok...let me just look" ,and then she would tell your fortune by looking at this:

There were always letters coming, gifts coming, someone whose name starts with a certain letter that will come in to your life, good news or bad news coming, and so on.

I loved these times.
I learned so much listening to those ladies.
Girlyshit reminded me of wonderful memories.
How appropriate, because those ladies were all about girly shit.

P.S. Don't tell my mom about the tablecloth thing, ok?