To The Glory of Vietnamese Coffee

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One thing I have discovered since moving to America, besides that pile of barbecue I consumed last year, is just how amazing Vietnamese coffee is. The one above is from Pho Bistro in Carrollton, at 3052 Old Denton Rd, but they're the same all over. It's basically one of the most delicious things imaginable. So strong, and yet so sweet, it's like Hulk Hogan asking to take you out for a lovely dinner at your favorite restaurant. While dressed in a tutu. Hulk Hogan, not you. This has come off the rails. Let's try again.

It starts when they bring you that ridiculous contraption to the table. "WHY IS MY COFFEE UNDERNEATH METAL" you cry. "COULD THEY NOT HAVE DONE THE FILTERING PROCESS BACKSTAGE?" as if a restaurant has a backstage, like it's Madison Square Garden or something. You idiot. It's all part of the bizarre experience. The first time I had one, I simply stared at the metal, waiting for it to remove itself.

Alas, not having Jedi powers, I eventually had to remove the metal myself, confused as to why a restaurant would make me touch a hot thing comprised of several parts that don't want to stay attached to each other. Surely there's a Vietnamese coffee lawsuit waiting to happen? Then you just put it on the table. Fine, whatever. Stir my own coffee? This is so unAmerican. So undignified. I want to underpay someone to do this for me.

And yet, the struggle (it's not very much of a struggle, alright, I'm over-emphasizing partly for comic purposes and partly as a hard-hitting satire on the nature of American consumerism, which I'm sure you'll agree just passed away right now) makes the finished product even better somehow. Once you've stirred that incredibly strong coffee into what is essentially a layer of delicious fat and then poured it over ice, you feel like you've had some sort of hand in the process. Your mind flashes back to past lives, when your ancestors tilled the soil just to subsist, and you realize that you should probably try and grow a lettuce or something.

Never mind, though, because the iced coffee is now ready, throwing your brain a curveball by going from hot to cold so fast, and it makes Generic Coffee Place Iced Coffee taste like worthless crap. It's everything all at once, it's coffee, it's cream, but somehow it's more of those two things than could or should be possible or even medically advisable in one drink.

Basically, it's magnificent. My experiments to combine Kroger coffee with sweetened butter are yet to produce the same results.

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