Not your average Tim’s

Nearing the five hour mark of a gruelling drive on the skinny, twisting roads from the coast of Montenegro to the inland mountains, we stopped by a crude beverage stand on the side of the road in remote farm country to ask if they had some coffee. The farmer’s daughter called to her dad and before we knew it we were invited into their house and the four of us were sitting on the deck overlooking the valley. I was surprised to see that my freshly made cup of Montenegro country brew had a thick skin of milk fat on the surface. When I motioned for a spoon to remove the film (I say “motioned” because they only spoke Montenegrin) they seemed confused. Apparently, the milk was fresh from the udder and before I could inquire further I had a full cup of that straight-from-the-cow goodness in front of me. Mmm Mmm good. Elise and sat around for about a half an hour and muscled out what little Montenegrin/Croatian we could for conversation. Like many of the residents here in the Balkans, they also made their own honey and plum brandy – all organic, unpasteurized and delish. They declined our offer to pay for the hospitality; it was all on the house. I guess the honour of our company was payment enough.

-G