Tea is the social currency of Kurdish daily life. You cannot visit a Kurdish home without being handed a glass within minutes of arriving — a small, tulip-shaped glass of strong black tea, usually sweetened, sometimes with a sprig of fresh mint or a piece of cardamom. Refusing the first glass is mildly rude. Refusing the third glass is accepted as a signal that you are about to leave. The tea is the medium through which conversation happens and through which hospitality is expressed.

In the evenings, especially in the colder months, Kurdish families often gather around a tea table for hours. The samovar — the Russian-origin heating device that spread through the Ottoman world and was adopted throughout Kurdish communities — keeps the water hot continuously, so tea can be served across an entire evening without interruption. The gathering is an end in itself: the point is not to accomplish anything but to be together.

Coffee plays a smaller but distinct role. Kurdish coffee, when served, is often prepared in the Turkish style — finely ground, unfiltered, boiled in a small copper pot called a cezve — and served in very small cups. It is associated with more formal occasions and with the moment after a meal. In the diaspora, tea remains the everyday drink while coffee has acquired the associations of specialty cafe culture that it carries in American life more generally.