![]() Over the years, Vietnam has developed a coffee culture all its own, and bustling coffee bars and quiet cafes alike are an important part of the country’s culture. This combination of bitterness and sweetness has become a hallmark of the drink: the punch of strong coffee counterbalanced by honey-like condensed milk. Since fresh cow’s milk wasn’t accessible in Vietnam, sweetened condensed milk became the dairy of choice to have with coffee. Coffee, and the phin, were both introduced to Vietnam in 1800s by French colonialists, and France’s cafe culture as a whole took hold not long after. The phin, the device traditionally used to brew Vietnamese coffee, is comprised of four stainless steel parts: a plate, the body, a press disk, and the lid. For these brands, it’s not just about getting caffeine from cup to brain-it’s about carving out a place for a coffee tradition that’s largely been overlooked in artisan coffee culture. Their phins are sourced from Vietnamese manufacturers or personally designed, and their beans are grown in partnership with farms in Vietnam. A number of Vietnamese and Vietnamese American entrepreneurs are working to put the phin on our collective coffee radar and give Vietnamese coffee its long overdue moment in the spotlight. ![]() ![]() This intentional slowness, while not new to the artisan coffee scene, is what so many emerging Vietnamese coffee brands are hoping to bring to coffee drinkers of all sorts. But after years of waking up and grabbing coffee on the way to something, I’ve recently started embracing the coffee phin-the Vietnamese coffee-making device often described as a crossover between a pour-over and French press-as a way to pause and engage in a coffee tradition that makes me feel connected with my family. For me, as an adult, coffee was almost always taken on-the-go: between the subway and work, on a lunch break, or among a crowd of strangers moving through the day. These slow moments were the few she could have to herself.įor a long time, my own coffee consumption looked very different from my parents’. But more often than not, my mother’s ritual took place in solitude while the rest of our family was still asleep. When hot coffee hit the condensed milk, the clinking of her spoon would begin, a tiny symphony. If I was awake early enough, I often watched, mesmerized, as my mom balanced a can of sữa đặc over the mouth of her cup to draw out the last of the thickened, sweetened milk. Click here to listen on Apple Podcast or Spotify.I never drank coffee growing up-my parents thought it would make me short-but they did allow me pieces of their toast to dip into their morning cups. Listeners can also search for The Story of a Brand. ![]() Subscribe and Listen to the podcast on all major apps. This episode is brought to you by MuteSix, Gorgias, and Attentive Join Ramon Velaand Debbie Mullin as they break down the inside story on The Story of a Brand. Hyper-focused learning had kept her going in her journey. The flavor of Vietnamese coffee had always been interesting and exciting for her, so she chose to start the brand. She used to work at the World Bank before Copper Cow Coffee. ![]() She always wanted to be part of something that could create opportunities. “Becoming an entrepreneur gets easier and easier as you get questions answered,” says Debbie Mullin, CEO and Founder of Copper Cow Coffee, the first premium Vietnamese coffee company in the U.S.ĭebbie was raised in California and had a Vietnamese mother. ![]()
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