COFFEE: FROM TURKEY TO VIENNA, Recipes Included

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Photograph of  Café Bräunerhof under GNU Free Documentation License via Wikipedia.

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Public Domain Photograph of Cafe Central via Wikipedia.

A click on the photographs will take you to the coffeehouse websites.

“. . . a coffeehouse is a place where you feel at home, even though you’re not at home.” poet Kurt Tucholsky

I’m told that my paternal grandfather died when my father was a child, leaving his relatively young mother with five children.  My father, the youngest and the only boy, was the family’s hope for the future.  The women worked, scrimped, and saved – no doubt he did as well – so that when he was old enough,they could send him to the United States, the land of “golden opportunity.”  It was his duty then to work and send money home. For reasons of which I’m unaware, he didn’t come straight to America.  He made his way from Turkey in 1917 to England and finally to the United States (Manhattan) in 1919.

My father spoke little of his adventures, but he did talk of the cafés as one of his two pleasures, the other being “language.” That he occasionally took pleasure in the cafés is not surprising.  They must have seemed comfortingly familiar. Or, perhaps, now traveling in countries both European and Christian, he had access to what may have been denied him back home on the basis of his religion and Greek mother.

My father was born and raised in Constantinople (it had not yet become Istanbul), which is perhaps the birthplace of café culture as we understand it today. Kıraathane were well established in Turkey in my father’s day, the first having been founded in the late 1500s in Constantinople with coffee imported from Yemen. These coffeehouses were an exclusively male domain. The gentlemen would gather to talk, to read (perhaps poetry, which is valued in the East), and entertain and engage one another with music  and backgammon.

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Illustration: Turkish Coffeehouse, Ottoman Empire

The coffeehouses in Vienna started with coffee that was appropriated from the Turkish in 1683 during a battle that was the turning point of the Ottoman-Habsburg wars.  The Viennese cafés were also hubs where people came to talk, write, play games (probably chess and backgammon) and simply to read the newspaper. Coffeehouse customers were never rushed away and often stayed many hours.

Café Central, clearly one of the most well-know of the Viennese cafés even now, seems to have been more famous for its clientele than its coffee. Today it appears to be as much a tourist stop as anything (this assessment from an inveterate armchair traveler), but in earlier times history notes that customers included writers, poets, artists, philosophers and thinkers of every ilk. Among the most well know was the Ukranian, Lev Davidovich Bronstein a.k.a. Leon Trotsky. Though Trotsky, who turned his back on his bourgeoisie background and embraced the proletariat, was a regular, I’m sure my father and his like were not. Ironically though, my father was a true prolitarian in what I understand to be the classical Latin sense from which the term is derived: a male child, the only wealth of his family and the only wealth they had to offer their country. There must have been cafés where poor and relatively illiterate people such as he could rest and get their social needs met. Such cafés might welcome a young man dressed in ragged clothes, perhaps carrying a worn carpet bag with a few meager belongings and kese (Turkish money bag) with the modest saving won by hard toil and fiscal restraint.

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Illustration: Discussing the war in a Paris Café, Illustrated London News circa late 1800s. From Vienna, the café custom is said to have spread throughout Europe.

I have no way of knowing whether or not Vienna was in fact a stop my father made as he found his way through Europe. I have chosen it as a stop here because it was the place where the European café culture started in the 17th century and because I like Viennese Coffee, a delicious froth of coffee, chocolate, cream, and whipped cream – and that’s the recipe I choose to share here today.

Further, I think these coffeehouses of the past provide an enriching historic background on a pleasant tradition. Just like the old and venerable Middle Eastern and European coffeehouses, our American cafés are places where we meet friends to talk, mix with strangers, or go sit quietly alone to read or write. At one cafe near me, people gather to play chess, and there’s always a board out. Our favorites cafes may periodically offer jazz, poetry readings, or host other events.

Here are recipes for Viennese Coffee for one and for four.  You will needed to prepare the following before assembling the drinks:

Whipped Cream: Make whipped cream using fresh whipping cream.  Chill a bowl and beaters first and then whip the cream until it forms peaks.

Chocolate Shavings: Make chocolate shavings by holding a chocolate bar on waxed paper, using your non-dominant hand.  With the other hand and a sharp vegetable peeler, firmly “shave” the side of the bar letting the savings fall onto the waxed paper.  You will then be able to fold the waxed paper in half, keeping the chocolate centered, and tip it to distribute the savings over the whipped cream.

Coffee: Use whatever coffee and whatever brewing method is your preference.

Viennese Coffee for one

The recipe

Place the chocolate pieces in a cup and pour the hot coffee over, stirring well to melt it. Top with whipped cream. Sprinkle with chocolate shavings.

Viennese Coffee for four

Make enough chocolate shavings to sprinkle on four cups.  You don’t need much. It’s mostly for decoration.  Break the rest of the bar into pieces.  Simmer the 1/2 cup of whipping cream that you set aside and, when it’s hot, add the chocolate pieces.  Stir well to melt the chocolate and mix.  Add the coffee, stir and simmer the mixture until little bubbles start to form on the side of the saucepan.  Pour into cups.  Top with whipped cream and chocolate shavings.

Here are links to more of our coffee recipes:

Lebanese and Turkish Coffee

Italian Coffee, Espresso

one fresh-brewed cup

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Photograph courtesy of Petr Kratochvil, Public Domain Pictures.net.

HOW TO MAKE ITALIAN COFFEE, Espresso

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Photograph courtesy of Peet’s Coffee and Teas

This excellent demo was made by Terri Paajanen.

“The voodoo priest and all his powers were as nothing compared to espresso, cappuccino, and mocha, which are stronger than all the religions of the world combined, and perhaps stronger than the human soul itself.” Memoir From Antproof Case, Mark Helprin

What is more delightful than an espresso (that’s eSpresso, not eXpresso) to help move through the day or a caffè correto to end a good dinner and aid digestion? This is an easy-to-learn process using a Bialleti Moka Express, an aluminum stove-top espresso maker.  It’s well worth the negligible effort.  I prefer the moka pot to a machine because I feel more connected to the process and the product, it takes up less real estate in the kitchen, and it’s budget wise.

Always, we start with the freshest ingredients: water – clear, cold, and filtered – and freshly ground dark-roasted coffee. My coffee of choice is Peet’s Espresso Forte® . Have it ground on #3. Buy it when you know you will use it right away, even if you purchase beans and grind them at home.

The Bialetti Moke Express comes in three parts: the reservoir for water, a coffee filter with funnel for the grounds, and a top piece to capture the espresso as it bubbles up from the bottom.  This coffee pot comes in various sizes to make coffee for just two or for up to twelve.

Directions:

Fill the reservoir with water to just below the steam valve. Put the coffee filter in place and fill it with grounds, tamping them lightly with the back of the spoon. Screw the top piece in place.

Put the Moka Express on the highest heat.  Watch it because it is quickly done.  The espresso will gather in the top chamber. Serve immediately.  Sweeten if you like.  If you care to, you might add either a lemon peel or, for a caffè correto (corrected), a little grappa.

Caffè latte: One shot fresh, hot espresso for each six ounces of steamed dairy, nut, soy or hemp milk, your choice.

National Lasagna Day . . . or Month, Your Choice

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Photograph by PD Photo.org


Lasagna is both a noodle and a dish and is derived from the Greek word lasanon. Popular all over the world, lasagna is made in many different ways. From meats and vegetables, to different kinds of sauces and cheeses, lasagna is a favorite dish for many people.” Jace Shoemaker-Galloway, in the July 17, 2009 issue of the San Francisco Examiner

I have such an unrelenting food-trivia tracker, that I don’t know how I missed this event. It finally crossed my radar while I was checking my favorite picture blogs. I haven’t found any official source of information.  Well, after all, what industries could claim it?.  So many . . . pasta makers, tomato growers, cheese manufactures, purveyors of frozen foods, spice growers, and the restaurant industry.  Perhaps there are too many players for any one to lay a claim. The articles and postings I’ve found are inconsistent with regard to length.  Is it a one-day celebration or a month-long celebration?  I guess it depends on the depth of your devotion.

I’m surprised that whomever started this tradition, scheduled it in July.  Too hot!  A good, properly made lasagna takes hours to prepare.  Although there are shortcuts. One innovation layers ravioli for what is certainly a quick – and probably a tasty – alternative.

I used to make a “mock lasagna” in the summer time. My recipe went something like this: I would gather together some of my own frozen tomato sauce or some prepared sauce,  full-fat ricotta, hard mozzarella, Ronzoni ochi de lupo (a wonderful, large macaroni), and various spices. I’d chop the mozzarella, cook the pasta, and warm the sauce.  Then I’d put all the ingredients together in a large pot on a medium gas, stirring well until the mozzarella was melted and the lasagna was hot.  Not particularly attractive, but the flavor was right. Add a green salad, some vino for the husband du jour, and we were set to go. It was quick.  The kitchen temperature remained bearable.  I never had any complaints. This was all before I learned that I am allergic to wheat-and-gluten, and long before my doctor restricted me to two one-half cup servings of grain-derived foods a day.

As I look back, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a lasagna I didn’t like; but, quality ingredients and a good, classic, homemade meat-sauce, produce the best product. This means using homemade or artisan noodles, fresh high-quality cheeses, fresh herbs and spices, a variety of meats, good extra-virgin olive oil, and your own garden tomatoes or canned Italian plum tomatoes with basil. A superior lasagna requires a willingness to invest considerable time and money for something that will be immensely enjoyed, but pretty quickly polished off by family and guests, not to mention you.

My childhood and youth were rich in good cooks. A significant number of them were from Italy or were first generation Americans of Italian decent.  My schoolmate, Fran V., and her mom made trays of lasagna on a regular basis and brought them from their home in Rego Park, Queens to our convent school in Brentwood, Long Island on Sunday afternoons. Mrs. V. would use imported noodles, which had a wonderful bite.  Her sauce and her lasagna included a lot of delicious pork sausage with fennel seed.  Mrs. D., another friend’s mother, lived near the Russian embassy in Glen Cove, Long Island.  She would always stud a large white onion with cloves and put that in her sauce as it simmered, removing it before serving. Nice flavor.  

Everyone did something that made their sauce uniquely theirs.  Some used wine. Mrs. D. felt there should be some heat and added dried red pepper.  My high school sweetheart’s mom didn’t agree.  She added a pinch of sugar to her sauce. One family added cinnamon, which strikes me as quite a Greek thing.  Most added nutmeg to their ricotta. I knew women who thickened their sauce through long-hours of simmering.  Other’s speeded the process by adding a can of tomato paste.  I think the latter makes for an highly acid sauce.  I have found through time that the addition of meatballs with their breadcrumbs serves well as a thickening. Everyone used Locatelli brand Romano. No dry, tasteless cheese from little, round, green containers.

My Aunt Mildred (see also the post on Roman Egg Drop Soup) was the best of the Brooklyn cooks.  She was a first-generation Italian-American. She used chicken in her sauce along with the other meats.  The meats included a small tenderloin of pork, Italian pork sausages (sweet and hot) and braciole (top round, sliced thin and pounded, rolled around a savory filling, and tied with cotton string).  Meatballs were standard addtions to everyone’s meat sauce, and my Aunt Mildred’s were the gold standard. They were made from beef, sometimes from a combination of beef, pork, and veal. Generally eggs, seasoned Italian breadcrumbs, generous amounts of fresh, minced parsley,and grated Romano were incorporated into the ground meat, which was then formed into balls and browned in a fry pan before going into the sauce to simmer. 

When assembling the lasagna, these wonderful old-world cooks would crumble meatballs and sausages and layer the crumbled meats in the lasagna along with the noodles, cheeses, and the sauce.  Most of the time, the sauce and the lasagna would be made a day or more ahead.  When this dinner was finally served, usually on Sunday, it started with a voluptuous vegetable salad with plenty of salty, oily olives . Lindsey olives, which are dyed and taste like salt water, were never used. There was wine for the adults and water for the children. The meats were set out in a side dish. Extra sauce was served in a gravy boat. Big chunks of Locatelli Romano would be passed around the table along with a Muli Grater, enabling each of us to have freshly grated cheese on our noodles. There were always dense, fragrant slices of Italian bread fresh from small, local, family-run bakeries. Sopping up extra meat sauce with the bread was a must and a delight. Dessert might be a selection of pastries, or fresh fruit that had been macerated or simmered in wine, or Amaretto cookies. There was espresso coffee too, often with grappa (grape-based pomace brandy of Italy) or a slice of lemon peel.

Lasagna Day or Lasagna Month, it’s an interesting concept, but in the Brooklyn of my childhood, we didn’t need an event. Many, many Sundays were lasagna day. It was quite a regular thing. I think it has probably become more and more difficult for people to come up with the time and money for such memorable civilities. As for me, for health reasons and ethical reasons, I now make my sauces with a variety of vegetables, rather than a variety of meats, and I am more likely to serve it over other vegetables (sliced eggplant or a portobello mushroom, champignon de Paris) rather than make a lasagna with noodles.