My thoughts linger on my first taste of Vietnamese coffee. It happened at the Benthanh river market, in the Mekong Delta region (just after crossing the border from Cambodia). The coffee was handed to me by a smiling young man in a boat: iced coffee in a plastic cup. First taste: fruity, dark, rich, overwhelming. The kind that snaps you awake. Add condensed milk: sweet, sticky, thick. If you’re not careful the milk will stick to the bottom of the cup and your last sip will be gooey. But never mind the end because it’s the first smell: wood, red rich earth, slowly grounded bean.
I can still roll around in my tongue the taste of Vietnamese iced coffee,the smell of dark roast a kick and awakening. And much like with mangos in Philippines, I’ve been spoiled.
