There is something about coffee. Not that I can say it tastes nice, or yummy or anything. More like gold, like being together, sharing thoughts, stories, memories.
Coffee in Norway is different from coffee in Italy, in France, in Eritrea......
....yes, let's talk about Eritrea. I have visited the country twice and both times I've been invited for coffee. An honor. Which takes a long, long time, starting with the burning of the coffee beans. I have a collection of Eritrean clay coffee pots. Every time I look at them I am reminded of a country, a people, friends, drinking coffee together.
In Sarajevo we were met by Bosnian coffee, influenced by the Arabs, just like they are in Eritrea. Coming into the basar at night was like walking into 1001 Nights. We ended our dinner with coffee, and felt like staying on, listening to stories. Well, if not 1001 of them, at least a whole coffee pot full.
It took me no time to realize that my Eritrea coffee pot collection needed company by a Bosnian set, a round plate, two small cups, a smal kind of pot and bowl or saucer for the sugar, or the Turkish delight......
In the basar there were at least 1001 different designs to choose among. Hard to decide which one to buy.
A plate for a coffee set in progress, made by a local artist.
Night two in Sarajevo ended with coffee as well, how could it not. It's lika a fairytale, isn't it..... Can you see us, in the deepest corner....the corner where tales are told.....
Coffee......a drink for the Gods......and luckily for you and me as well.
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How is it, do you have a coffee tale to share? I will make myself a cup of coffee, I will make one for you as well, and we can sit down for a chat.
