Turkish Coffee

Slow down your mind. Make coffee slow.

By Angela K. Durden

My friend Marina Frolova-White is from the Crimea. We met at a Meetup.com group for those interested in the topic of songwriting. We are both more than songwriters, but that is where our lives overlap. We write original songs and music and find that one brings a viewpoint to the other's songs that only makes it better. But isn't that what music is all about?

Click here for tickets

Our voices are complementary and our musical styles range widely. We have embarked upon a series of concerts. If you live in the Atlanta, Georgia, area and want to come see us this Friday, then click here for tickets, time, and location. 

However, back to the Turkish-style coffee. When I first went to Marina's house, toting my keyboard/stand, music stand, chair, and notebook of live performance lead sheets I had put together of my songs, before we ever got started rehearsing, Marina said, "Would you like some Turkish coffee?"

In all my naiveté, I said, "What's that?"

"Oh," she said, "you are in for a treat."

She was correct. It was a treat.

I'm used to making coffee in my electric pot. But, this! Oh, this cuppa was delish unlike anything I'd ever had. So I went looking for myself a setup. I purchased the set in the picture above. It is winging its way to me as you read this.

But here is what is interesting. Ever since I've started making Turkish coffee, I find my body is quite satisfied with that one cup per day. It's the oddest thing. It's as if my cells have said, "Well, finally, you're treating us right."

And here's something else that's interesting: Because the process of making the coffee is so slow — it cannot be rushed and be good — my mind gets an opportunity to watch slowly and enjoy. Best mental health Tip O'da Day.

To read more from Angela Durden, 

visit her site here.