Photo Credit: Justin Knol (Flickr CC)
I first experienced Turkish coffee at the now-defunct Casbah Café that was located in the Silver Lake neighborhood of Los Angeles. I had heard of Turkish coffee, but I hadn’t realized that it is not a type of coffee, but instead refers to a method of bringing very finely ground Arabica beans to a boil (or near-boil, depending on who you talk to) with sugar. Cardamom is usually added. This all takes place in a special pot called an ibrik or a cezve; a stylish little thing with a long handle, usually made of copper.
The sun’s rays cut through the café windows and danced off the ornate little ibrik as it was brought to my table. Even more interesting was the process of drinking the thick, sweeter java; the powdery-fine grounds used to make Turkish coffee are not filtered, but they instead float in the cup and never completely dissolve. It helps to gently swirl the cup while drinking the coffee to keep the grounds mixed with the water. This also helped it retain that stronger wow flavor. It wasn’t quite as strong as espresso, but it still had that kick.
The grounds left a thin, muddy layer at the bottom of the cup, and I heard that your fortune could be revealed in the grinds. Nobody was available on that day to read my fortune, so I just left after I finished my meal and walked down Sunset Boulevard, trying to decide whether or not I liked Turkish coffee.
I didn’t think about Turkish coffee again until recently, when a friend mentioned that he and his hiking party made Turkish coffee over the campfire. He even found an ibrik at an antiques shop. That conversation renewed my interest, and I decided to try Turkish coffee again with an older, wiser perspective. It made sense that my friend found Turkish coffee efficient for camping; it’s one of the oldest coffee brewing methods, used as early as the 1500s, and it requires no special equipment except for that cool little ibrik. While researching recipes, I found that a small saucepan also works just as well if you can’t find an ibrik or don’t have the patience to order one and wait for it to be delivered.
To make Turkish coffee, start with some good quality coffee beans and grind them down to dust; really, they have to be super-fine, like the consistency of cocoa powder. You’ll need about one heaping tablespoon for two servings. Bring one cup of cold water and ¼ teaspoon of sugar to a boil in an ibrik or small saucepan. Remove from heat and stir in the tablespoon of super-fine coffee grounds and the cardamom. Return the saucepan to the heat and bring to a boil. Remove from heat when you see foam develop on the surface, and pour into two espresso or demitasse cups, filling each cup halfway.
Now here’s the part that can lose some people: return remaining mixture to the heat again. That back-and-forth heat thing can be tedious, but apparently these are important steps to develop the customary foam. Once the foam developed for the second time, remove from heat and pour remaining mixture into the cups. Let it stand for a couple of minutes so the grounds can settle. Milk is not added to Turkish coffee. Also, don’t stir the coffee, or the foam will collapse. Now the coffee is ready to sip and enjoy.
Turkish coffee doesn’t seem to be a common offering at many establishments. Do you enjoy Turkish coffee, and if so, where do you pick up a good cup? And did you see your fortune in the grounds at the bottom of the cup?
