THURSDAY'S BREW
Café con leche at Hotel Nacional in Havana |
It's National Coffee Day and I can't think of a better reason to celebrate something I love.
Clearly, I'm not the only one. Roughly 83 percent of us drink it daily in the U.S. But in Latin America, coffee and food just about hold equal billing. It's not only a jumpstart, it's social, it's rico.
In Cuba, their choice is a cafecito, a sweetened shot of its dark brew, served in a doll-sized cup. It's a quick sip and often several times a day.
Café
con leche
is the same coffee topped with milk, which may or may not come on the
side; in a cortadito
the milk is steamed. Breakfast in Cuba is typically bread or a
pastry dipped into either.
I
love to drive around Hialeah, Miami's Brooklyn, and watch the
older Cuban guys in their guayabera
shirts and stylized hats, gathered with una colada,
which is
a larger cup of cafecito
that is served with thimble-sized cups for sharing, and a game of
dominoes. They sit for hours rehashing their lives in vivid
animation.
It's
a scene direct from the island.
In
Havana, my mother-in-law, Ana, picks up ground coffee for the month
with her libreta,
a government-issued ration book, from the neighborhood bodega.
But
when I used to visit regularly 15 years ago, she received dark
espresso beans in their raw form, roasting
them in a deep, cast iron pan with chícharos, or split peas. Sounds odd, I know, but
trust me here, it is anything but, despite the initial pungent,
charred smell that used to make my nose itch even from upstairs.
There
was a large hand grinder affixed to the countertop that completely
intimidated me, but she wound the thick handle around and around
until a fine powder was produced. It was one heck of a workout, but
I cannot fully impress the smell of the handcrafted
café.
I would have eaten the entire batch with a spoon if I could have.
Though
she uses the packaged version today, Ana is gifted in the kitchen and
works magic with whatever she's got.
An old-school manual coffee grinder in Havana |
A
few drops are mixed with several teaspoons of sugar, which makes a
sweet, frothy foam called espumita.
This
rises to the top when the remaining liquid is poured over.
It's
crazy good on it own, but for over-the-top decadence, Ana will whip up a
meringue of raw egg whites and a touch of sugar, maybe cinnamon to go on top. It's artful. Decadent. Divine.
2 comments
Great post! Why is it that these simple, human things that so many others in the world get right - coffee, soccer, healthcare - are so difficult for us to get a handle on?
ReplyDeleteNo idea, but totally agree!
ReplyDelete