Iced Coffee

There are certain things which mean summer: BBQ, Baseball, Pools, Rhubarb Pies, Splashing Water, Cold Beer drunk outside. I consider all of these sort of national prerogatives.
In my family, summer also meant ice coffee. Growing up (and still when I visit my folks) ice coffee means a strong pot of Folgers brewed in the morning and then put in a sink of cold water. Then drink it black.

Which is fine and all. I'll still drink it.

It tastes like home after all.

Then I went to Holland and found Cafe Verkeert (sorry, I'm sure I've mangled the spelling. Between studying German and picking up a smattering of Dutch at social gatherings my grammar and spelling is a disaster. Hell, my spelling is iffy in English.) It is basically a cafe con leche or a a cafe au lait. But the fact that it translates to "coffee gone wrong" makes it sooo right. The end result is that I now take my coffee with milk. Including iced versions. And this is my standard for ice coffee now: strong with lots of milk NO sugar (same as the hot).

Then I went to Vietnam.

And there was no milk.

But there was white coffee. Which meant a swirl of heavy, sticky, sweet condensed milk to stir into your coffee cup.

And then there was the iced version.

One glass ice.
Condensed sweetened milk at the bottom.
A little filter perched on the top full of grounds.
Hot water poured slowly over.

Drip.
Drip.
Dripping down.
Onto to the ice
and the sweet.

And there goes your afternoon.