The third cup is the blessing

The grass goes down first: freshly cut, scattered on the floor around a low stool. Then the incense, frankincense on a coal, and a small brazier. The host washes green coffee beans in a long-handled pan, roasts them over the coals and brings the pan round so everyone can breathe in the smoke. It is good manners to wave it towards you and say how good it smells.

The beans are pounded in a mortar, the grounds go into a black clay jebena with water, and the pot sits on the coals until it boils up the neck. Then it rests on a ring of straw while the grounds settle.

Abol, tona, baraka

The first round, abol, is the strongest. Water goes back onto the same grounds for the second, tona, and the third, baraka, which means blessing. Each is poured from height into small handleless cups in one unbroken stream. Sugar is usual; in some homes salt or butter; and there is often popcorn or roasted barley on the side.

The whole thing takes an hour or more, and that is the point. It is when neighbours catch up, disputes are settled and news goes round. Leaving after the first cup is not rude, exactly, but the third is the one that counts.

We arrange ceremonies in family homes rather than hotel lobbies. Read more on our coffee origin page.