It was a pleasant cafe, warm and clean and friendly, and i hung up my old water-proof on the coat rack to dry and put my worn and weathered felt hat on the rack above the bench and ordered a cafe au lait. the waiter brought it and i took out a notebook from the pocket of the coat and a pencil and started to write.
Of all the unchristian beverages that ever passed my lips, turkish coffee is the worst. The cup is small, it is smeared with grounds; the coffee is black, thick, unsavory of smell, and execrable in taste. The bottom of the cup has a muddy sediment in it half an inch deep. This goes down your throat, and portions of it lodge by the way, and produce a tickling aggravation that keeps you barking and coughing for an hour.