Ah, coffee: the magical black potion, the source of life, the ruler of the walking dead. Okay, enough with coffee praising because even though I just had one, I could definitely go for another cup! It’s no secret that people across the Balkans are devoted coffee drinkers. To be honest, I wasn’t one of them until my early 20s. Until then, I couldn’t understand why coffee time in the afternoon was such a must. I saw it as an unnecessary habit, totally boring, and honestly, a waste of time. Ah, sweet, sweet, innocent child that I was.
My grandma and her neighbor drink their coffee at 3 or 4 PM, depending on the season, every single day. Over the years, others have joined them in this daily routine. These days, they actually organize their day around coffee time. All the work needs to be done by then, it marks the transition from “getting things done” to “taking it easy.” This hour of coffee preparation, people gathering, drinking, and cleaning up is the backbone of life. You don’t skip it. And if you do, you better have a solid reason. Whatever you do, don’t even think about having your coffee somewhere else if you already have an established group – that’s pure treason! If you do, you better come back with a juicy story to make up for it.
Nothing fancy, just coffee
When I’m at grandma’s, we drink coffee outside in a ramshackle kind of gazebo, more about function than beauty, under a tree, exactly the one you see in the cover photo of this post. She makes what’s known here as Turkish coffee, prepared in a džezva that’s probably older than I am, on an old wood stove. It’s served on a battered platter in mismatched cups. Everyone has their own favorite cup from a different set, chosen to match their personal taste, so the collection is colorful – and definitely not fancy. And just like the cups, the personalities around the table are lively and contrasting (which is a nicer way of saying they’re usually very loud).
Since moving away from my hometown, I often dream of teleporting into my grandma’s yard just in time for coffee. It’s hard to recreate this ritual abroad without your people. It just doesn’t make sense to anyone else. The photo above shows me and my partner having coffee. He’s not imaginary – he just had his coffee and ran off, while I’m still sitting there, slowly sipping. That’s the difference with Italians: they gulp it down and get on with their day. We, on the other hand, mull over it for a long, long, looong time.
And I get it – they just don’t have the culture of ćejf, that sweet moment of enjoying doing nothing, just existing. I, on the other hand, can’t do what he does. I can’t just gulp boiling hot coffee. I tried, and burned all my internal organs in the process. Nope. I’m sticking to my practice of slow and mindful oblivion.
In the end, coffee time is meant to be shared
But even though coffee sits at the center of the experience, it’s never really about the coffee. It’s about the social need, for both quality and quantity, of time spent with people you love: family, kumovi, and friends.
Some of the best examples of local coffee habits come from stories shared on a regional website that collects true, often hilarious tales. Like the time a girl was woken up at 5:20 in the morning by a neighbor who had run out of sugar and couldn’t stand her coffee bitter. Or the guy who came home at dawn after a night of partying and forgot to put a sign on his door saying “coffee has been canceled,” so his friends showed up anyway – hangover or not. The ritual is so strong, people will knock on your door regardless. In this part of the world, coffee time has practically reached the status of a religion.
I used to ask myself: How do people not get tired of the same old thing: same coffee, same time, same people, day after day? But I’ve since come to realize how deeply entertaining and educational it can be to sit around the table with two or three different generations. You’ll hear everything: random trivia, passionate opinions, and some surprisingly solid wisdom.
And there’s truly nothing sweeter than grandma’s coffee, and I don’t mean that figuratively. Even when she insists she didn’t add sugar, she did. Her motto? “If life is bitter, the coffee doesn’t have to be.”
Exploring the Region, Near or Far? Let’s Connect.
Whether you’re mapping out a trip or just daydreaming, I’m happy to offer insight, ideas, or just a good local story. Curious about something specific? Drop me a note through the Contact page and let’s keep the conversation going – maybe even over a cup of coffee (wink, wink).
