Να κάνω καφεδάκι;
(Should I make a -little- coffee?)
Love has many languages. Caressing, talking nicely, hugging, buying presents. There is one love language that has a prominent position in the Greek culture: making coffee.
From friend to friend, partner to partner, parent to child or child to parent, making coffee is a small ritual. It is an act of caring. It is an act of servitude. Making coffee sets the scene for quality time.
R. Cialdini, in his book Influence: the psychology of persuasion -I just finished reading it and I am obviously influenced1- writes that, one of the pillars of persuasion is commitment. If you commit to something, even to a small degree, then you will most likely to agree to future, larger requests. For example, if you agree to take a short survey on energy consumption, it is more likely that you will agree to participate in a second, longer survey on the same topic later on. Or that, if you make a positive statement about a car brand, you will most likely defend that brand, even if new information arises, that points to the opposite direction.
In a similar manner, coffee is that first, small commitment leading to food. Only, this commitment works the other way around; if you agree to me making you a coffee, it is I who commits to make you feel comfortable, to serve you. It is I, who will make sure you have everything you need. From a glass of water, to food. And opposite to sneaky salespeople trying to sell you a mediocre car, I just want you to have a nice time2.
See, coffee is never just coffee. I offer coffee to help you feel relaxed and comfortable, lure you into an afternoon of proper hospitality. Coffee is just the first step. With coffee come cookies, or cake. After coffee, maybe a snack. If the conversation flows, snacks turn into beer. Beer reminds you of food and before you know it, plates start appearing on the table. To make it less conspicuous, everything is served at the coffee table. Only when the plates start hanging off the table edges, the obvious is stated: should we move to the kitchen table? Too late to back down now. You have committed.
Dinner will most likely come with wine. And depending on the mood and the conversation, dinner might be followed by whiskey. Actually, the subtitle is slightly misleading: coffee is not the ultimate form of love; food is. But coffee is the staircase to food.
No food already prepared? No problem. Growing up Greek, means producing a meal out of thin air. A Greek mom’s fridge is both empty and full at all times, like Schrödinger’s cat. Full because, it is full. Empty because, no matter how full, if she has nothing prepared, she feels like “she has nothing to offer you”. But a few eggs, a handful of tomatoes and onions, maybe some of yesterday’s leftovers and suddenly a full-blown meal lays before you. Feta and bread go without saying. My grandpa used to buy fresh bread every day, regardless of what we had for lunch. Meat with bread; fish with bread; salad with bread; pasta with bread. Going to the bakery was his daily exercise, which he followed religiously.
We were talking about coffee and suddenly I am writing about my grandpa’s triathlon. But that is exactly how easily having a coffee, evolves to a feast: in the blink of an eye. Greek culture is designed to raise stealth hitmen who will, with delicate moves, lure their victim into an intimate dance of coffee, feta and olive oil. Only their target is not to kill the guest, but to take care of them.
To make someone coffee, does not mean simply offer them a hot beverage. It means making them coffee, so that they feel comfortable enough to talk about their day, their life, their thoughts and whatever else they want. Making coffee is the opening scene for a therapy session. Make the patient comfortable, so that they open up.
Should I make a -little- coffee, is the little brother only to να σου κάνω κάτι να φας; (should I make you something to eat). But that is a story for another day. Now you ‘ll have to excuse me, I have a coffee to make.
Pun intended.
Or hygge, as you would say in Denmark. You can read more about the concept of hygge in the two posts about life in Denmark👇
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This is such a lovely article / story. Every weekend, my husband gets a wonderful (his word) cup of hot coffee that I make fresh before breakfast for him. It’s a little gift I like to give him to start our weekend days off in a sweet way.
Coffee is a must for me to start my day and punctuate my procrastination pauses!