Cuppa Kaapi...

Growing up in an Iyer household made my cuppa kaapi very, very dear to me. It is rare, if not impossible, to find a Tam-Brahm home where coffee is not part of their staple diet, along with rice and curd; lots of curd! Or, let me qualify that, you might even find households, such as mine, where rice is not the most eaten meal, but even in those homes, coffee is the most dear-to-heart food item in the house. Over the weekend, I had one of the worst cups of coffee in my life, at some mall a friend and I visited, and with each distasteful sip, I remembered the aroma of the filter kaapi that wafted through the air, when I came home after school. Even after hundreds of cups of coffee at the local Cafe Coffee Day or Barista, I always only found solace in a steaming cup of my mom's home-made coffee, made from deconcoction, fresh each day. (Interesting fact, for the longest time I called it 'degarshan', because that's how it sounded when my elderly paati (grandma!) said it.Much, much later I learnt it was an actual English word, or derived from an actual English word at least!)

So, for those who are unfamiliar with the importance of filter coffee in the life of a Tamilian, here is a brief overview. We do not, as a rule, drink instant coffee. Instant coffee is for losers; the ones who do not know how to make a good cup of filter coffee, or worse yet, have not experienced the heavenly taste of it, because believe me, once you taste it, you are hooked! Also, the poor souls who are 'in foreign' abhor the coffee that the coffee percolator makes; too much water, not strong enough coffee. So, as far as we can, we will only drink filter coffee. What is filter coffee you ask? Well, it is the most heavenly cup of coffee, made with just the right proportions of the aforementioned deconcoction, sugar and milk. Now, what defines this cup is this deconcoction, which, in my house is made from ground coffee powder consisting of the right combination of two different types of coffee beans, Peaberry and Plantation, and some chicory! The coffee powder will come from one shop, and one shop only, the same shop that your family has been visiting for decades, maybe more. My aunt who lives in Bombay still gets her coffee from Bangalore, and that is how crazy we are about our kaapi! The coffee is always served in dawara-tumbler, the purpose of two dishes being to cool the coffee, to a drinkable temperature, effectively and quickly. Genius, I say! Mugs? 'Aiyo, we will not drink kaapi in mugs. The taste is spoiled in mugs!'

This aroma of filter coffee brings back the most wonderful memories! It brings back memories of teen-patti and rummy played with my cousins, while the aunt's whose house we'd crashed served us with steaming hot filter coffee and chiwda and biscuits. It brings back memories of coming home drenched and pissed off by a freak rain shower, and having a cup of kaapi to sooth the seething anger, followed by another cup, which is had standing in the balcony, now appreciating the same rain! Memories of annual poojas held at my grandmother's house, where the kids would huddle up in a bedroom, sipping cup after cup of coffee, smuggled from the kitchen, while it was actually being prepared for other guests, and of pre-exam nights spent cramming my pea-sized brain with more information it could handle, only fuelled by the cups of coffee I made on my own, all the while cursing my inability to make a cup of coffee that tasted like my mum's! It also brings back memories of over-night train rides, where the coffee-filled thermos was the most vied item, so much so that bets and dares were placed to win each other's assigned cups, and of pre-wedding ceremonies, coffee coupled with the smell of the chemical laden mehendi; the most fun part being when someone else performed the davara-tumbler-davara-tumbler routine to cool it for you, and fed it to you. Memories of my first cup of coffee, which was basically a cup of milk, with a few drops of the deconcoction (well, because, 'Kids should not be drinking coffee at such a young age!'), memories of idlis and dosas and vadas, each meal incomplete until the inevitable cup of filter kaapi is served, and memories of early Sunday mornings and the fights to divy up the newspaper in a manner suitable to everyone and then poring over it with a cup of coffee in my hand. It brings back memories of visits to my grandmother's house, and the expectant waiting until those two magical words are spoken, 'Kaapi venama?' (Do you want coffee?), and the enthusiastic nod, and then the look towards my mother, to see if she thinks I am 'old enough' to drink this evil, evil drink and the elation when she gives a tiny nod too! Ah, such wonderful memories!

Every time I drink a cup of coffee with its feeble taste and diluted consistency, I miss home and my strong cuppa kaapi! I know what will the first thing I will demand when I land in India, and I know what will be the first thing I pack when I leave, a brand new filter and packets of 'Mysore Concerns' coffee. Then maybe I can teach the 'uneducated' who marvel at Nescafe instant coffee what a cup of coffee is actually supposed to taste like. Until then...
 
PS: (There is a wiki entry for 'Indian filter coffee', you MUST see it once you are done here!)