Life was very much simpler when I could order either black or white coffee usually served in a cup and saucer and sometimes in a glass. If I wanted a takeaway, the coffee would be packed in a plastic bag with a straw tied to it.
Now coffee brands pride themselves on the different varieties of the coffee drink they can offer with prices that match the cost of their ingenuity, so to speak. So we look up at the signboard filled with fancy names for the humble coffee drink and struggle in our minds deciding whether we should order an Americano, a shot in the dark, a café au lait, a café breva, a café macchiato, an expresso or a café latte.
As if the list is not daunting enough, there is the frappe, the hammerhead, the madras filter coffee, the kopi Tubruk, the Melya, the Mocca, the Oliang and the Lungo. And if I wanted a takeaway, the coffee would come in a fancy paper or plastic cup with a lid. Sometimes there is a special holder too, so that the heat will not burn my hand.
I have not tasted most of these exotic drinks, preferring to stick to the familiar and regular cup and therefore will not attempt to expound on the exquisite aroma or how one is defined by the coffee she drinks. Instead, it is the enigmatic circumstances that surround me when I drink my favourite cuppa that leave the best memories.
If Shane West and Mandy Moore have A Walk To Remember, I certainly have A Cup to Remember, two great cups even.
The first great cup of coffee was drunk alfresco in a café around the corner of Thomas Street in Limerick. I was in between shopping for school books for my daughter and shopping for myself as a reward for shopping for school books for my daughter. So, I decided on a coffee and a cream bun as I listened to the maestro belting out classics like "'O sole mio" (the sun) which is a globally known Neapolitan song written in 1898. Although I did not understand a single word of the lyrics penned by Giovanni Capurro, the melody composed by Eduardo di Capua was breathtaking. I was not the only one soaking in the ambience. I could see the appreciative audience sipping their coffee very slowly to make it last as many songs as possible.
As we imagined ourselves somewhere in sunny Italy, we were thrust back into Ireland when the rain came. Like a magician the maestro dished out an umbrella and began his next song, Nessun Dorma (None Shall Sleep), so naturally, as if the weather did not affect him at all. That to me was professionalism. I could have sat there the whole day, but then again I could not drink that many cups of coffee.
The next great cup of coffee was drunk in a Chinese restaurant in Newbridge, County Kildare. We were on the way to Dublin airport to pick my daughter upon her return from Germany and we decided to make a turn off to Newbridge for some steamy hot rice and asian cuisine. There were a good number of restaurants to choose from but somehow we gravitated towards Kings Park Chinese and Thai Restaurant on the Main Street.
Every time we enter an Asian restaurant, we would try to guess where the proprietors come from by looking at their faces and listening to their accents. So far, we have correctly identified Mainland Chinese, Taiwanese, Thais, and the list goes on. At Kings Park, I suspected that we were among Malaysians so I asked the young man who waited at our table where he was from.
‘Malaysia, Ipoh to be precise’ he said.
Every time someone mentions Malaysia, the effect would be electric. There was great camaraderie between us as we exchange light conversation about Malaysia and Ireland and I could see how his face lit up when he told me he was going back to Malaysia for a month’s holiday. We had a 3-course meal and coffee was to be served last. So I said, ‘Do you have Ipoh coffee?’ He smiled and said he would concoct something for me.
The next thing I knew was he brought me a tall glass of coffee with milk. I thought he was a true Malaysian at heart, very hospitable and he went out of the way to do something for a fellow Malaysian, both far away from home.
To me that was paradise. It was certainly a taste of Malaysia in Ireland. As we continued our journey to Dublin airport the taste of Ipoh coffee lingered on my lips.
SOURCE: THE NEW STRAITS TIMES 25 SEPT 2011 http://trove.nla.gov.au/work/157461228
No comments:
Post a Comment