Lady F Celebrating Coffee

Coffee. Sugarless, dark, black. Espresso, roasted, fresh. With just a spoon of milk –  caffè latte. The ultimate aroma experience. It excites the senses, it overwhelms, it entices, it addicts. Coffee is the morning shot of love everybody needs. Whether you drink it in Spain or in Bulgaria – it’s the same treat – the ever powerful way to taste the perfection of the morning.

Lady F is very balanced – she drinks just two coffees per day – one 10 minutes after she opens her eyes, and one right during salsa classes. Unlike Italians, she takes it slowly…The first coffee lasts from the morning to the afternoon, she is gently, frugally sipping from her bone china cup for hours to pass by. Every sip is a break from the routine, every sip a different taste. Coffee is like good music. It sings:

“Happy day to you, and may all your dreams come true!”

One of Lady F’s discoveries was Turkish coffee served with water and white candy. You can tell your destiny by the leftovers if you got some intuition or you are accompanied by an old woman with a turban and a cigar. The first and the last sip of coffee are equally enchanting. Lady F is the Coffee-Fetcher – she makes coffee for everyone at home each morning.

Once upon a time, Lady F used to be a waitress in a Greek café in Chicago. The café had regular middle-aged visitors, who drunk mostly coffee or ate Greek salad and read their newspapers. Each one of the visitors loved his coffee prepared in a different manner. So they fussed around her, while she was preparing it with instructions how it has got to be served. She soon learned their unique inclinations and made unique Greek Coffee for everyone. The coffee cost one dollar. The biggest tip she got was 30 bucks. She even had a romance with both sons of the old café owner: Louie and Angelo. Louie was blond as an angel and blue-eyed and he took her to a sweet-shop with his summer car. Angelo was dusk and brown-haired like a raven and he trotted about her in the kitchen, helping her wash the dishes.

Upon leaving Chicago, she wrote a sexy poem about Louie and Angelo, and a poem about the Greek café: