Hot Coffe on a Hot Day

This is the whole shebang

Let me wax a little poetic about the delicious experience of making and drinking a great cup of coffee. The heavenly scent of freshly ground beans fortifies me while I prepare to make an espresso. Accompanying hums and rattles wake me up in increments while my machine produces the demitasse of liquid energy. The wisps of steam from the espresso accented with cinnamon or chocolate alert my nose to the forthcoming tastes. I tend to mellow my espresso with milk, steamed in the winter. During the summer months, I double the cooling effect of cold milk with a handful of ice. That first sip, that perfect ratio of coffee to milk, is in some ways a form of worship for me, and that's hardly an exaggeration.

One of the great mysteries of the universe is how it seems only older people want a steaming cup of coffee in the morning during the depths of summer. Heat is my archenemy, waiting to ambush me anytime I want to wear makeup or clothing with sleeves in the summer. On hot days that are also humid, I've been known to fake minor injuries to avoid going outside. In Vietnam, every day is hot and humid. Unlike the aforementioned group of mystical older people I've encountered, a hot beverage is the last thing I would want to drink, right? Right… until I was introduced to Vietnamese coffee. 

 

A friend dropped by...

For most us, Vietnam is not a place that comes to mind when listing coffee-growing nations. It's the number two producer of coffee, after Brazil. You read that right, the second-largest producer of coffee in the world is tiny Vietnam. The farmers make the most of terracing techniques used for centuries to produce rice, and they mostly grow the hardy Robusta plants rather than the Arabica variety. Historically, most of their crop has gone toward instant coffee. Lately, blends of both types of bean have been making a dent in the market.

The day we were initiated, we had spent the morning driving from the Pacific coast up into the Annamite Range on our way to Hue City. After consecutive switchbacks, avoiding scooters in the wrong lane, and almost getting hit by a truck full of pigs, we made it to the Hai Van Pass. Souvenir shops rubbed shoulders with cafés in the pass, and we chose the café facing the ocean. Our guide ordered for us, and I was surprised to see all the equipment that was brought out for a mere cup of coffee.

View of the Pacific Ocean from the Hai Van Pass

In essence, Vietnamese coffee is the original pour-over. The waiter set small metal filters over glasses that had a substantial layer of condensed milk in the bottom. He scooped course coffee grounds into the filter, poured hot water into the reservoir, and placed the lid on top. After a few minutes, he came back and set the filters aside, revealing small, strong cups of coffee. The dark liquid was nearly as thick as the condensed milk, which I learned was a holdover from the days before widespread electricity and refrigeration. It was delicious. Sipping the caramelly coffee and looking out over the hazy mountains to the Pacific, I gained a little understanding of how a person might enjoy this on a hot, humid day.

Until the next post, keep laughing, learning new things, and eating good food.