When I was growing up in the former Czechoslovakia people did not drink real coffee. They either drank the instant kind or they drank it Turkish-style. For those who are not familiar with Turkish coffee, you basically put ground up coffee grounds on the bottom of the cup and pour hot water over it. Then you wait until the majority of it settles down (notice, I say “majority” because about 1/4th of the grounds ends up in your teeth – creates a lovely look). Anyway, my parents drank it, I drank it throughout my high school years and did not think much of it, just hoped it would keep me awake during my study nights. But THEN I came to the US and was introduced to Starbucks….and from then on it went downhill with me. I just loved their coffee! My unhealthy relationship with Starbucks went so far that I ended up working there for a couple of years and yes, I did have to get up at 3:15 am for my morning shifts and yes, I did become the feared Tripple-tall-half-decaf-extra-hot-one-pump-sugar-free-vanilla-soy-no-foam-late beast.
Now that I proved to you that I am the “expert” on coffee, let me tell you, I still think that the Czech coffee shops (most of them anyway) make one of the best espressos in the world. I just can’t help it, every time I go back, the coffee tastes better than the time before! How did this happen? Let’s review this time line: at first there was the afternoon “kavicka” which consisted of boiled coffee grounds; then after the gates of the Western world opened up to us in 1989 there was the “fancy” Nestle instant granules that everyone was sipping on; then the first Starbucks invaded Prague and now my mom just recently asked me: “Which coffee has more of an earthy undertone to it? Sumatra or Kenya?”
CZ: Kdyz jsem jako mala vyrustala v byvalem Ceskoslovensku, lide poradne kafe proste nepili. Bud si delali kafe instantni anebo si zalevali Turka. Ti z vas, kdo jsou obeznameni s tureckou kavou vi, ze ctvrtina kavovych zrnek vam zkonci mezi zuby, nebo vam udela nad rtem “nadherny” zrnkovy knir….no proste libezny vzhled. Nicmene, moji rodice ho pili, ja jsem ho pila behem mych studentskych let a ani jsem o jeho chuti nejak nepremyslela. Jen jsem pevne doufala, ze me udrzi vetsinu noci vzhuru, protoze gympl byl v te dobe dosti zaprah. Potom jsem ale prijela do Statu a jednoho krasneho dne okusila kafe ze Starbucksu – a pak to se mnou vsechno jelo z kopce. Nejen ze jsem tam par let pracovala ( a ano, musela jsem vstavat ve 3:15 rano!!), ale take se ze mne stal ten znamy a vsemi nenavideny ” Tripple-tall-half-decaf-extra-hot-one-pump-sugar-free-vanilla-soy-no-foam-late” netvor.
Ted kdyz jsem vam prakazala, jaky kafovy “expert” to vlastne jsem, rada bych vam oznamila, ze podle meho mineni maji nase ceske kavarnicky (nebo alespon vestina z nich) stale to nejlepsi presso. Nemuzu si proste pomoct, ale pokazde kdyz se vratim do Cech, libuji si na elegantnim presicku vice, nez kdy pred tim. Jak se tato makroevoluce vlastne prihodila? Nejdriv to byl odpoledni Turek, po revoluci se pak na Turka zapomelo a pila se ‘prepichova’ instanti kavicka Nestle; pak do Prahy prisel prvni Starbucks a ted se me ma mamka pta, “Ktere kafe ma chutove hrubsi ton? Sumatra nebo Kenya?”
If you liked this post buy me a coffee! (Suggested:$3 a latte $8 for a pound) Thanks!
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You’ve reminded me of something that happened when I showed a new American teacher around Mariánské Lázně. I had never learned the terms for different kinds of coffee, so when this guy and I sat down in a restaurant and he told me to ask the waiter to bring him “regular coffee”, I didn’t know what to call it, because to a Czech, Turkish coffee was regular coffee. Since I didn’t know the terms “překapávaná káva” or “filtrkafe”, I had to use a long circumlocution to tell the waiter what the other American wanted. The waiter accommodatingly replied, “Tasakafe!” Thinking he was trying to switch into German with me, I replied, “Ano, chtěl by šálek kávy, ale ne normální českou kávu, spíš kávu, jak se typicky píje na západě.” The waiter again said, “Tasakafe!” and I explained again. No matter how much I explained that my colleague wanted regular filtered “mister” coffee, the waiter kept saying “tasakafe”. I thought he didn’t understand me.
Well, he did. If a customer came in and asked in Czech for “kafe”, they would give him Turkish coffee. If a German came in and asked for “eine Tasse Kaffee”, it could be assumed that he wanted filtered coffee, so the staff of that restaurant had begun using a new word “tasakafe” to mean filtered coffee, i.e., the kind of coffee that Germans always want.
That’s so funny – this is the first time I heard about this! I guess I was still too little to remember the restaurant stuff….I just remember the muddy water my parents used to drink 🙂