Bosnian Coffee

Yesterday for formation, we had a woman from Bosnia come for dinner and serve us Bosnian coffee. Like coffee from Greece and parts of the Middle East (as per friends' experiences), this coffee is made with grinds mixed in and about 6x as strong as regular coffee. So you drink approximately a shot glassful, and don't get to sleep until midnight.

Before coffee, we had dinner from a Bosnian restaurant in town. Phila dough, plus meat and cheese and spinach equals deliciousness. Our guest told us about her experience moving to the US from Bosnia and some about her culture as a Muslim Bosnian American.

After dinner, she put on the coffee in a tall pot on the stove. While we waited for the water to boil, she explained coffee in Bosnia. They have it twice a day at least, before and after work, always with a sweet and always as a leisurely social event, not like American grab-a-cup coffee. It reminded me of tea with my roommates last year. No matter how busy we were, it seemed like there was often a conversation around the tea. When the water boiled, our guest/hostess spooned in coffee. It boiled again and was ready!

Byrd dressed in traditional Bosnian Muslim prayer clothing, which covers everything other than the face, hands, and feet. The covering of the hair made me think about the question of Catholic veiling. After she explained praying, our guest poured the coffee into beautiful golden shot glass-sized coffee cups. We had little pieces of cake and sugar cubes with the coffee.

After you drink the coffee, you can read the grinds like tea leaves. You flip the cup upside down, wait for it to dry, and read the patterns of the grinds as they flow down the side. Ana read mine. First, she decided, "It's a chicken!" On second consideration, she found the Blessed Virgin Mary, or maybe just a woman holding a baby. This, according to Ana, means that I would have a child. Next Ana found 3 or 4 other figures, who apparently were perhaps bridesmaids, but maybe not.

I told her the important part was the man involved : did it tell her who I would marry? After some more looking, she declared that she had found a clown. It works : I don't think I've ever liked a guy who was not something of a clown.

Our Bosnian guest/hostess told us that a baby meant something new in the future and took her own peek at the coffee grinds. She didn't really offer any insights though. We bid her goodnight and I proceeded to stay up too late.

I didn't have chicken for dinner today so I think Ana's first guess was wrong. However, when I heated up some of the coffee our guest had left and showed the grinds to Ana, she saw a long and winding road. So maybe I have a long path to a chicken dinner.