Turkish Coffee

About a year ago, I stumbled across a small package of Turkish coffee in a discount store.  I'd read about it several times, and was eager to try it, as it is usually described as strong or intense.  Turkish coffee is very finely ground, and steeps right in the pot with the water (and sugar, if desired).  Bringing my purchase home, I hit my first stumbling block;  Turkish coffee is made in a special pot, called a cezve or briki, and of course, I had no such pot.

Helpfully, the package also described an alternate way to make this coffee: Israeli mud coffee.  Turkish coffee is of course not just Turkish, it is enjoyed across the Middle East, Greece, the Balkans, and parts of Russia.  As it turns out, and for reasons I can't seem to fathom, in Israel, they prefer to make it as "mud coffee."  I must say, this is truly a lazy man's way to make coffee.  The steps consist of:  place coffee and sugar in cup, add boiling water, stir, let settle.  This is not instant coffee, which is instead made from freeze dried prepared coffee...these are just finely ground coffee beans.  The results is...well, mud coffee is a good name.  It's strong, murky, lacking any nuance of flavor, and the grounds form a thick sludge along the bottom.  In short, it's coffee my Dad would love, but then, he's been known to cheerfully drink coffee that's been sitting out overnight.

A few months later, my wife spotted a Turkish coffee pot in the store for about $8.  It's not a traditional one with the long handle, but it works, and can also be used to make homemade hot chocolate, a nice side benefit.  So, after several months, I get to try the real thing.

This is not lazy man's coffee!  Preparing Turkish coffee takes multiple steps.  First, we put water (and sugar, if it's desired) in the pot, and bring the water to a boil.  Next, we take the pot off the heat and add two big teaspoonfuls of coffee and stir.  The pot needs to sit for a few minutes to let the grounds settle and cool a little.  Now, we put the pot back on the heat, and slowly bring it back to a boil, then take it off the heat, cool, and boil once more.  If done right, a nice reddish brown layer of foam appears on top, very much like the foam on a cup of espresso.  I'm still working on the foam...I think it requires a slow, patient boil for the second and third boiling, and I'm not always a patient man.

The resulting cup of coffee is strong and unique.  The spout on the cezve catches (most of) the grounds, leaving a far cleaner cup then with the "mud coffee," and the extra boilings help the flavor develop fully.  The taste is very bold and earthy, and the coffee has a huge, full feel on the tongue.  Much like French press coffee, various oils, esters, and other compounds are retained rather than being lost in a filter, lending a nice complexity to the flavor and texture.

Properly made Turkish coffee is not exactly for a busy morning, but it makes a nice treat when you have the time.  The coffee itself is relatively cheap, and seems to turn up in discount stores and ethnic food sections, and a reasonable facsimile of a real cezve can be found for less than $10.