Imagine walking down a dirt road lined with various fences. Some made of corrugated tin, others made of small tree trunks and still others made of a hodge-podge of both. Behind the fences you can hear a deep rhythmic thud, thud, thud, and from some wafts the scent of roasting coffee and incense. Finally you reach your co-workers gate, where you’ve been invited for coffee.
You’re invited inside and given the nicest chair in which to sit. Also sitting in the small common room are a few other people, perhaps a brother, sister, children, neighbors, other co-workers. Incense smokes over burning charcoal. Your co-worker moves to the corner of the room and sits on a small wooden stool behind a small charcoal stove and a tray covered with small, handle less tea cups called Cini (see-knee). Scattered around her on the floor is freshly cut green grass, for decoration.
While small-talk ensues your coworker is gently rinsing a handful of raw, pale green, coffee beans. She puts the rinsed coffee beans onto a gently curved circular roasting pan and holds it over the glowing charcoal in her stove. She pushes the coffee beans around the roasting pan until they are dark brown, with small bits of pale green still visible. “The problem with American coffee,” she says to you “is that it is burned during roasting. To make it sweet, it must look like this.”
A Traditional Coffee Ceremony Set Up |
She puts the roasted beans into a tall, deep, wooden mortar and begins to pound the beans with a long metal pestle, “thud, thud, thud”, until it is almost a fine powder. She spoons the grounds, tea spoon by tea spoon, into a ceramic jug, called a buna jebena, full of boiling water and places the jug back over the coals. She leaves it there for some time while she chats. Some time later she pours a bit into a cini, examines it, and pours it back into the jebena. “It isn’t ready. The coffee must rest at the bottom and the coffee must be dark.” She says to you.
When the coffee is perfectly brewed she puts a few teaspoons of sugar into the cinies, pours the coffee over it, and serves each guest, one-by-one. The coffee is sipped piping hot. The room remains quiet as everyone enjoys the brew. Your co-worker pours more water into the jebena and sets it back on the coals.
Your co-worker collects the empty cups and refills them. The coffee is a little lighter this time, not quite so strong. Again, water is added to the jebena and is set to boil. Empty cups are collected and the third and final brew is served. You’ve just partaken in a traditional Ethiopian coffee ceremony. It was the best coffee you’ve ever had, and coffee back home will never again satisfy, at least not completely.
While it’s a lot of fun to do an authentic coffee ceremony with the jebena and everything, I know for most people back home it probably isn’t very likely to happen with the equipment available. So, for the sake of modern convenience I’ll tell you how to brew Ethiopian style coffee at home.
Clockwise from top - Buna jebena, smoking insence on coal, two cini, sugar pot. |
You’ll need:
A small frying pan
A coffee grinder or deep mortar and pestle
A tea pot
As many small tea cups as you need to serve yourself and/or your guests
1 Cup of raw coffee beans
7 Cups of water
1 tsp cloves (optional)
¼ tsp cinnamon (optional)
Give the coffee beans a good rinse and dry them off. Heat up the frying pan and throw them thar coffee beans on. Roast them until they are golden brown. NOT BURNT! NOT BLACK! Just golden brown. It’s okay if you see tiny specks of green still. I’m told that’s part of what makes Ethiopian coffee so good. Let the roasted beans cool. Either pound or grind the beans until they are as fine as you can get them. If you want to add the cloves and cinnamon add them to grinder or mortar with the beans to grind them together. Boil the water in the tea pot, add the coffee and steep it at a low simmer until the grounds sink to the bottom (about 5 minutes). You can check to see if the grounds are settled by pouring a bit of the coffee into a tea cup. If there are a lot of grounds in it, let it simmer until there is less. It’s okay to have a few grounds. There is always a small layer of coffee sediment in the bottom of cini. Pour the coffee and serve with sugar or black if you prefer.
Mmmmm……so good!
If you didn’t catch my last blog, it’s all about the origin of coffee, so check it out if you’re interested.