It’s now a quarter past six pm. I am sitting in a Hanoi old coffee house, listening to a strange jogtrot piece of traditional music. Alone.
It’s weird, because I am not fond of traditional music. I am not fond doing anything alone either, especially when all these “traditional music” and “doing something alone” are surrounded by crowd and motorbikes parking all over the sidewalk.
Notwithstanding these, I am sitting here, and love that. To be honest, I have to pick up my little sister when she finishes her extra evening class. She is about to enter high school next year, and for all Vietnamese people which can devote any thing for study, this is a tough year for every student. Being in this coffee house is just for killing time when I am waiting for her. And there is still 30 minutes left, enough for a cup of coffee, pure black coffee as usual. Today, I call for a hot one, because the sky out there is so brightly pink – a glamorous pink; and the wind is scattering all the leaves on the pavement, leaving a little bit stunning cold and sneaking right into people’s hand. Cannot believe an autumn night is mislaying in the middle of summer, and hot black pure coffee would be perfect.
I am not kind of a sophisticated typical coffeeholic, who is usually a connoisseur of rock music or photography, as most of other Vietnamese coffee expert. I have been into that beautiful black liquor for just 4 or 5 years, and this feeling is normally “like”, not a hobby or passion; I can never name all types of coffee in this big world, or answer which is better between Starbucks matcha frappuccino and oreo blended. For me, there is just one kind of true coffee on this Earth: PURE BLACK COFFEE. And it must be Vietnamese, not so many people know that Vietnam stands no.2 in this world for growing and exporting coffee seeds. To be exact, I am in love with Hanoi old coffee.
When I was a kid, I was so into a popular instant coffee this time, named “Eagle”. The reasonable sweet flavor blended so well with an irresistible savory, which was completely different from chocolate – expensive, way too sweet that could burn your mouth, and smell something… weirdly artificial. Becoming a teenager, G7 – the largest Vietnamese coffee brand of all time – nailed me completely. Opening a new horizon, for smelling better, being less sweet, G7 was patly good that sometimes I would pour too much water for drinking more. I rarely dare to have a non-instant Vietnamese traditional pure coffee, because it is unreasonably bitter.
Vietnamese traditional coffee stands out of all other coffee over the world. We call it “filter-coffee”, the name which straightly describes how we drink it. The pure coffee seeds were ground into powder after being dried under sunshine or a big roaster - if more modern. People put this barely natural powder in an extraordinary “filter”, then put this “filter” on the top of a short glass. This filter looks like a tool of traditional French coffee house, which is cup-shaped with tiny holes in the bottom. The holes are big enough for water to drop through, but small enough for letting the coffee powder not go down into the glass. Please notice that the powder is so nature that we cannot eat or drink it, so it should not be mixed with the mash liquor. Pour “the first hot water” into the filter, this “first water” is just for clean all the dust and foreign matters. After waiting for 1 or 2 minutes, we separate this water away and pour some new hot one, which is called “the second water” right into the filter, and now all we have to do is waiting for every little drop absorb all super delicacy of the nature coffee, then sneak through the tiny holes and finally stay peacefully in the short glass. This coffee after all would be the mightiest wonder of the world, extreme bitter but exquisitely sweet through your heart.
When I entered the university, one friend’s blog entry about Hanoi old coffee accidentally caught my eyes when I was killing time by skimming all stuff appeared on the Blog Home Page. Despite knowing that lying back at a coffee house in the Old Quarter of Hanoi or gathering with buddies there is typically a significant culture of this capital’s citizens, I still did not follow this trend, simply because I did not care or find it fancy. The blog entry caught my glance just because I had to finish my documentary film about coffee; and I had to prepare for the next day of wandering all the Old Street, getting through “Four Symbols of Hanoi” coffee houses: Dinh, Lam, Giang, Tri (Vietnamese often named a well-known café by its host, as if Iphone will be named Steve’s or Facebook will be called Mack, just so you know). This wandering to these four cafes was also for the documentary film, I did not have any passion for coffee at all. In these all four shops, I ordered just one kind of drink: Pure black iced coffee, to compare the taste and feeling of those “four symbol shops”. My coffee-expert friend said: “Instant coffee dissolving in hot water would smell good like heaven, this smell spreads through your whole 4-floored house, while pure black coffee would be like an old introvert scientist, smell nothing even if you try nose out. However, please pretend to leave a drop of this black liquor on your palm; it will leave a ridiculous sexy irresistible scent deep down in your skin until tomorrow, while the strong feeling that instant coffee did made will completely disappear after you finish it.” That’s why I only called for pure black coffee in every shop, because this is TRUE coffee.
After sitting having about 10 cups of black coffee and then having a huge bowl of sticky rice at the well-known restaurant in the Old Street Corner, I came home and rolled out of lethargy. These strong condensed pure coffee cups made me drunk, really. The next morning, I woke up without any hangover, took a deep fresh breath and then heard a sound of bird, a dog barking, bargaining noise of the neighbor market, smelled out the taste of autumn knocking on the window; suddenly I realized that myself just completely fell in love with true black coffee.
And from then, the only drink that I order no matter where I go - teen-style coffee house, luxury bakery or street vending cart – is that true coffee. Every time putting the cup near my lips, I would see…
… the picture of the Dinh Coffee’s host. She is the most typical beautiful Hanoian women I’ve ever met - open, friendly but still exudes the arrogance of a significant 80s’ teacher. She sat there and told me why she did not put the name of the famous father for the cafe on the attic of the small house, even if he is the biggest coffee expert and the inventor of coffee-egg; she excitedly said that the "boys" with tattoos spreading all over their bodies out there were like her sons, and told stories about all things happened in Vietnam subsidy period, when she had to raise a pig right inner her house, cooked pasta for a guest when he could not find a place to have dinner. No one knew that woman once banned her patrons as "I caught them smoking and cursing", no one thought that this small middle-age woman would like Punk Rock, Pink, or some popular singers in 90s that I do not even know.
… a bit of Lam’s coffee. This café is crowded all the time. When I knew about Lam’s the first time, its natural scent of true Old Coffee style was almost gone. The drink is wishy-washy; the air is full of tobacco smoke, the waiters seem to be slightly cold-hearted, only sunflower seeds score a good point. But the house is no denying that could create a "Hanoi" feeling, for the typical yellow color and paintings of famous artists covering the four walls.
… a bit of Giang’s coffee. On the same streets, Giang’s and Lam’s brings two very different feelings. You could find no where that have a more condensed, strong, slightly salty, but emotionally cold coffee than Giang’s. If Lam’s now is mixed with modern youth style, suitable for a bunch of little gossip girls, Giang’s is the right place for 2 people, to say small and be quiet. Mr. Giang is the biggest coffee expert that I mention in Dinh’s part above. He had 5 kids, among them there are 3 keep following he father’s path. The smallest girl is Dinh, the other two open two café and named them both “Giang”. Giang’s of the younger bro always creates a strange peaceful feeling, and the waiters always remember the guests. One night, his son widened his eyes and laughed when I paid: "Girl that ordered black (coffee) at 11PM, so charisma. You are the girl who always called for “black” every time coming here, right? ", even I am not a real patron.
Tri is the place for a small group gathered and gossips. The tiny house in another part of Hanoi is perfect for a cool weekend morning. Black coffee is delicious, but nothing too special. Sitting on the balcony to watch people scatter down the street is perfect, again.
Well, I'm not addicted to coffee to recognize all sorts of it, I only know famous ones like Capuccino, Espresso, Moka and something call suspended coffee that I watched on a TVshow about Italy when I was in 7th grade. Coffee for me and all Hanoiian is only true black. I also concatenate each of “Four symbols of Hanoi coffee” by color, Dinh with turquoise, Lam with gold autumn, Giang with student’s purple ink, and Tri with slightly gray, it's still brown.
It’s time to pick up my little sister. The grandson of this café’s host just came home from school, hugging tightly his granddad. The boy rubbed his head into the granddad’s stomach, talking nonstop about his class today. Well, this is not in the group of “Four Symbols”, just one of million Hanoi Old Coffee Houses, but still brings me a family feeling.
Thus, here are just some nonsense feelings coming out of nowhere when I sit here and enjoy my peaceful hobby. Hanoi coffee present its people – friendly, open, peaceful, exquisite, bitter outside but sweet inside.
