Immigrant Pretends To Enjoy Gritty, Sludgy Turkish Coffee

For unclear reasons he styles himself a sophisticate and feels the need to proclaim he likes it.

Jerusalem, November 22 – A recent “oleh” from the US has decided to immerse himself in the fusion of cultures that characterizes Israel’s cuisine, with fare that goes far beyond the pale imitation of Levantine dishes that he encountered back in the old country, including a preparation of Arabica popular in the region that leaves a grainy residue at the bottom of the cup for which the young man feigns appreciation when it fact he finds it repulsive but prefers to have onlookers believe him to have adapted to local gustatory sensibilities.

“Mmmm,” murmured the immigrant from Long Island, who until recently drank only instant or brewed, filtered coffee that featured only liquid. “This is so good. It’s nice and rich. I like the way the leftover grounds stick between your teeth.” He in fact does not like the way the grounds stick to his or anyone else’s teeth, but assumes others will consider him to fit in better if he can be seen to like Turkish coffee.

Turkish coffee uses beans more finely-ground than do the varieties to which the man became accustomed in his original milieu, and as such do not lend themselves to filtering out with either the standard brewing filters or French press preparation. Traditional Turkish preparation involves cooking the grounds with or without sugar and achieving a foamy texture on top of the concoction, but a faster, more common method for those in a hurry involves mixing hot water with the grounds, with or without sugar, right in the cup; the latter preparation has taken on the appellation “mud,” in reference to the sludge of grounds that settles at the bottom and that our protagonist, who for unclear reasons styles himself a sophisticate, feels the need to proclaim he likes.

“Not even natives like it,” remarked Mahane Yehuda coffee purveyor Anton Bashkevitz. “The only reason to tolerate the grounds is that the fine texture releases more flavor from the grounds and there isn’t really a market for a fine enough filter to strain it out – it would take far too long for most people’s patience anyway.”

The immigrant has shown a similar insecure proclivity with other elements of Israeli culture such as music: he has purchased the entire discographies of Mizrahi pop artists and sings along to their works on public transportation, attracting baffled looks from other riders, which he interprets as affirmation, perhaps envy, of his fluency in the genre.

Please support our work through Patreon.