the summer i read and drank coffee a lot
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the summer i read and drank coffee a lot
One of my favourite coffee mugs 🐾
someone teach me how to drink black coffee i've always drunk it with milk it's getting on my nerves — (╥﹏╥)
I DON'T WANT THE EXTRA CALORIESSS
random flash fiction: bringing an early Yemeni coffee drinker forward ~600 years and visiting a modern coffee shop
Me: Here we are.
Muhammed: "How Are You... Seed?"
Me: It's a joke. In English, at least. "How Have You Bean?" Probably doesn't translate well to uh... Old Arabic. The translation magic lets us talk, but it doesn't do well with nuances and puns and things like that.
Muhammed, nodding: It is challenging to translate jokes. They do not always survive the journey to another tongue.
Muhammed, looking around at the buildings and cars: So much changes in the future. It is like a strange dream. Glass, so big and so clear? It seems impossible...
Me: Yes, but hopefully, this place will have something you know. It's a, uh, how should I say it... a beverage house? Here, let's go in.
Muhammed, following: Ah, a place to drink?
Muhammed, sniffing the air: Mmm, qahwah?
Me: Yes, although we say it as 'coffee' these days.
Muhammed, amazed: So it is still drunk, even after so many centuries? Heh... funny that I should travel so far from home and yet find something so familiar.
Me: Do you take it sweetened? They have milks to add as well, if you like. And all sorts of creams and flavourings.
Muhammed: Hah! Six hundred years, and fools remain the same - qahwah is meant to be drunk unadorned. Only hot water is needed.
Me: Hmm, you prefer it black, then?
Muhammed: Mm. To face the bitterness is to experience what is truly happening, as in life, and to deserve the fruits of it. I will take it "dark", as you say.
Me: Alright, philosopher - one espresso for you, and one sugary, creamy, delicious latte for me.
Muhammed: You miss much, in your haste for comfort.
Me: And you miss the chance to have comfort when it is available.
~after ordering~
Muhammed: This apparatus is incredible. Is there alchemy involved?
Me: Err, only in the loosest sense of that word. It's a mechanical process, essentially. To force the hot water through a sieve of the ground beans. We call it an espresso machine.
Muhammed: And made just for qahwah? Or... "quickly", you said?
Me: Yes. English borrows the Italian word "espresso". After the drink was discovered in your part of the world, it spread everywhere. Europe received it through the Turks and Italians. And many people saw fit to refine the process of making. Fast-forward several hundred years of technology and improvements and you get machines like that.
Barista: Here you areeee! One double espresso, and one caramel cinnamon latte with whip!
Muhammed: One qahwah and one crime against it, you mean.
Me: Oh hush. Come, let's sit outside.
~drinking outside~
Muhammed: Mmm! A fine drink! Strong, but not burnt. Watered enough to help it, and not overmuch. Just right, I think. Though I will admit the truth - before, I was skeptical of the brew-maker. I have nothing against women preparing qahwah, as some do, but the colours in her hair made her appear strange. She is like a rare bird, come out of the wilds to make some delicious beverages for us.
Me: Ha! The colours threw you off, hmm? I'll say at least that it's more common now than in your time, perhaps.
Muhammed, looking at me: And with her skill, and that apparatus, even your drink might taste good.
Me: Haha! You should tell her that!
Yup! 💯🙌🏼😎
5.8.26. (72)
☕️ Just me, my black coffee, and a project that’s about to get done. No sugar, no cream, no distractions. 🤫💻
Yes, I could easily have an orgasm drinking black coffee without sugar; it's an indescribable explosion of flavors. If I didn't have a heart attack, I'd drink two jugs of coffee every day without stopping. This sums me up as a loyal black coffee lover. I've had my heyday drinking a lot of coffee, but it gave me insomnia and anxiety, so I don't highly recommend it...
it’s just me and my black coffee against the British