Yes, it's sludge.

The first and last time I had Turkish coffee was in Switzerland, in a lovely old lady's apartment. I met her at the grocery store in Liestal and we commiserated over being expatriates. I can't remember her name, but she cradled my chubby cheeks in a way that made me want to call her grandmother.

She welcomed me into her flat, which was sparsely but sincerely decorated, and I sat down at her floral oilcloth-covered table in one of the mismatched chairs. She fed me sweets and Turkish coffee and we talked for a hour or so, smiling a lot at one another. The coffee was sweet but strong and textured. As the grounds settled, it became more palatable, but it never settled into being a favorite of mine. Eventually, my responsibilities increased and my visits with her diminished into nothingness. I still remember the day, though, and the worn enameled coffee pot from which she poured that rich, bold elixir.

As an homage to that memory, I've started imagining things I could do with the brightly colored vintage pots available occasionally on Etsy and Ebay. I've decided to start with the set above. Over some sort of heat source, I'm going to attempt to bend the handle, close to the pot itself, into a 90 degree angle. I'll fill the pots with soil and a tiny succulent and hang them on a wall somewhere in my new home. I'll be sure to post pictures once they're finished and installed.

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Image courtesy: tippleandsnack

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All content © Meaghan O'Malley, 2009-2012. Header image by Rebekka Seale.