My day usually begins with a cup of black coffee.
I love coffee. I’m not a coffee expert or anything, but the taste and flavors just make my day better. It keeps me focused, awake, and makes my me-time moments more enjoyable.
I usually go for black coffee, especially the dark brown one from French Gourmet. Occasionally, I switch up my coffee, adding either sugar and cream, condensed milk, or fresh milk to enjoy different flavors. When I go out, a Mocha from Starbucks or a creamy McCafe will be my to-go orders. A Latte will also be a pleasant choice. They all just hit the right spot taste-wise. During my time in Vietnam, sipping on coffee with a hint of rum filled me with sentimental moments. However, most of the time, “Cafe phin” was my traditional pick. It’s a national favorite, where ground coffee snugly fits into a stainless filter, pressed firmly by the lid. The filter sits atop a small cup with a layer of condensed milk at the bottom. As hot water slowly pours into the filter, the coffee starts to drip through tiny holes.
Sipping on “Cafe phin” is like a gentle nudge to hit pause, savor the moment and embrace a bit of patience. It doesn’t come ready in a rush – it takes time for drops of coffee to fill the cup. They don’t make a whole lot, just a very small portion, a subtle hint, telling you to enjoy it slowly rather than downing it all at once. Made with 100% Robusta beans or a mix of Robusta and Arabica, this drink packs a punch compared to regular American brew. It’s not just about the bold, bitter flavor; it’s the caffeine content that’s best taken slow unless you’re up for a bit of jittery ride.
I had a funny memory with my boss when I introduced him to it. The moment it was placed on the table, he chugged it down and ordered another cup. Again, he finished it in one quick gulp, ignoring my warning about the coffee’s strength. No surprise that he got hit with a caffeine shock. It was probably etched in his memory, in both a bad and good way.
Choosing the most favorite coffee shop is tough as every place has its charm. There’s a diverse array of coffee shops, each tailored to serve different needs. Imagine this: If you have no time for a sit-down coffee, you can grab a cup from mobile coffee shops on the way. These could be stylish coffee carts or just a cheap motorbike with a box of coffee bottles and ice packs strapped on the seat, and accessories swinging from the handles. And if you’re lazy to venture far, there’s always a cozy local coffee shop just steps away, maybe even downstairs in your residence as it’s common for people in Vietnam to live and work in the same location. If you need a quiet work spot, check out bookish coffee shops or brand ones with comfy seating. Other places have killer views or unique designs – perfect for gatherings or attracting folks who aren’t just there for the coffee. In the evening, coffee shops have live music shows, be it instrumental vibes or vocal performance, almost every night.
Living in the US, I don’t hang out at coffee shops much, partly because of the cultural differences in how people experience coffee here. Plus, I’m used to savoring my quiet mornings at home with a cup of coffee. Despite this change, Vietnamese coffee shops hold my special memories. They’re the spots where I laughed and enjoyed a great time with friends, escaped from boring and demotivated moments, and left feeling more energized, relaxed and good about myself.
Begin life at forty 