Coffee is grown in more than 80 countries that lie between the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn, and a variety of rituals and ceremonies are dedicated to the bean.

ETHIOPIAN

Legend has it that a goatherd in Ethiopia discovered coffee when he observed his animals frolicking with extra energy once they’d nibbled on the leaves and berries of a plant. The goatherd tried some of the red arabica coffee berries and felt a similar burst of energy.

These berries were eaten whole, at first. Then the seeds (beans) were extracted, ground and brewed.

In Ethiopia, limu (processed coffee beans that are husked with water before they are dried) are favoured for a coffee ceremony that can last 30 minutes or more.

“Coffee gives us closeness,” says Aziza Akdem, owner of Ethiopian Village Food and Spice on the Danforth. “If there’s no coffee, there’s nothing to bring us together.”

There were no televisions or radios when Akdem grew up in Ethiopia, so people would sit and talk about “the condition of the country.”

Something as simple as watery coffee would spark deep talks.

“You say you don’t have enough money to buy coffee, which leads to talk of what plagues the country, its economic troubles, followed by broader political discussions.”

Ethiopians don’t drink coffee on an empty stomach. They do drink it with sweet or savoury snacks, depending on the time of the day and whether people are rich or poor.

Here in Toronto, Akdem serves popcorn and sweetened, deep-fried dough cut into bite-sized squares with her coffee. “Coffee is our main export,” says Akdem, slowly roasting green beans over a charcoal fire in her restaurant. “It’s in everyone’s home.”

She recommends you roast beans at home over a stove set no higher than “number four,” or medium, until they start to pop.

“Shake the beans and return to roast slowly,” Akdem adds, as the beans turn burgundy and their smell fills the air.

She grinds the roasted beans and returns to the table, where she has laid out small cups on an elaborate wooden tray with a drawer.

Every guest must have abole, berke, sostga (one, two, three) cups. Some say this number symbolizes friendship. Others say that drinking three cups three times a day provides the right amount of daily energy.

Akdem pours hot water over the ground coffee in a conical clay pot. The grinds sink to the bottom and the liquid runs through the neck of the pot when the coffee is poured.

Frankincense is lit twice during the ceremony and creates a heady mix of smells along with the roasting beans. This is a symbolic gesture to let ancestors know the coffee ceremony has started and ended.

“I lost a good sister who I couldn’t afford to lose,” says Akdem. “Maybe she’s here.” Pouring cups for the spirits of other relatives, she adds: “If they’re standing around, they can drink with me.” These cups are left untouched as a tribute.

There are other omens that surround coffee. If you accidentally spill a cup, it means the spirits are partaking in the ceremony. If a cup overflows when being refilled, it brings good fortune to the person who is drinking from the cup.

For a coffee ceremony at Ethiopian Village, book in advance. Cost: $15 for up to seven, or $20 for up to 10 people.

Ethiopian Village Food and Spice, 2229 Danforth Ave. (east of Woodbine Ave.), Toronto, 416-686-1846.

TURKISH

The Turks first obtained coffee beans from Ethiopia, but began cultivating their own by the 14th century.

Later, the Europeans exported Turkish coffee from the port of Mocha in Yemen. They also nicknamed coffee the wine of Arabia after they noticed it was sought after in Arab countries.

Coffee is said to have become popular with Muslims as the Qur’an forbids alcohol. In Turkey, coffee was drunk both at home and in the qahveh khaneh Ñ the forerunner of today’s coffee houses.

The word “coffee” comes from the Arabic word qahveh or qahwa, which means a drink derived from a plant.

At Anatolia restaurant in Etobicoke, on the first Friday of every month, owner Ayse Aydemir offers qahveh fali, the Turkish tradition of reading one’s fortune from the coffee grinds at the bottom of a cup.

Aydemir, a former stage actress from Turkey, opened Anatolia seven years ago and introduced qahveh fali two years later. She remembers summers in Istanbul when the streets came alive at night after people left clubs and bars. “On the Flower Passage St., flowers would be sold till the wee hours of the morning and there was fortune telling and music everywhere.”

Aydemir missed the revelry so much that she recreates it at Anatolia. During the monthly “A Night of Istanbul,” a fortune teller moves among tables reading coffee cups after dinner, which includes six appetizers, a main course and baklava. The cost is $45.

Through the night, a band performs traditional Turkish music as a belly dancer encourages diners to dance.

After the thick black coffee is finished, the saucer is placed upside down on top of the cup, then everything’s flipped. The fortune teller lets the grinds cool before carefully removing the cup. She reads the future from the shape of the grinds in the saucer.

Call ahead to reserve a table for “A Night of Istanbul.”

Anatolia, 5112 Dundas St. W. (east of Kipling Ave.), Toronto, 416-207-0596.

AUSTRIAN

Coffee came to Europe through Vienna after the Turks left behind sacks of coffee beans following their defeat at the hands of Austrians in the 17th century.

At first, coffee was distributed to Viennese pharmacies and used for medicinal purposes. A coffeehouse culture grew once people learned to roast beans and brew coffee, which was served with cake.

The first coffeehouse in Vienna, Blue Bottle, opened in 1683. Its filtered coffee was served with milk and honey. Nowadays, a small glass of water is served with each cup.

“Some things are just tradition,” reports Benedetta Stellino, who runs Kaffeehaus Konditor on Queen St. E.

She’s unsure why a glass of water accompanies the coffee, but one of her patrons suggests it might be to cleanse the palate between dessert and coffee. Tradition has it that a coffeehouse patron can stay as long as the water glass, which should be drunk between cups of coffee, needs a refill.

Stellino and co-owner/pastry chef Burgi Riegler have enthusiastically replicated an authentic Viennese coffeehouse. Regulars drop by for coffee, dessert and a chat. They swear by the sacher torte, a famous pastry made with layered chocolate cake and apricot preserves. Riegler reproduces it from scratch, including the difficult chocolate glaze that’s tempered on a marble slab.

The Viennese coffee blend served here is a medium to dark roast Ñ “strong but not bitter,” says Stellino.

Konditor offers just two of the several coffees typically found in Austrian coffeehouses because most of the others contain liqueur and Konditor doesn’t yet have a liquor licence.

One of the two coffees on offer is wiener melange ($4.50). Denser than a latte, it blends espresso, regular coffee and steamed milk and is topped with milk foam and chocolate shavings. You get that ubiquitous small glass of water no matter what, and it’s best if you order dessert Ñ preferably something chocolate.

“Everything has whipped cream in Austria,” says Stellino, who also serves wiener eis kaffe ($5.75), a thick, cold drink with artery-clogging layers of coffee, vanilla ice cream and whipped cream.

Kaffeehaus Konditor, 1856 Queen St. E. (west of Woodbine Ave.), Toronto, 416-693-7997.

VIETNAMESE

Two things are special about Vietnamese coffee Ñ the use of sweetened condensed milk instead of milk and sugar, and the individual drip pots with filters. The latter are a legacy of the French colonists who brought coffee to Vietnam and started coffee plantations there in the 19th century.

In the 1980s, the United States pulled out of the London-based International Coffee Organization that controlled the price and quotas of global coffee. The U.S. is the world’s largest coffee importer, so the organization’s quota regulations were no longer enforced. Prices for premium coffee beans from Ethiopia fell as cheaper coffee from Brazil, Colombia and Vietnam flooded the market. Now Brazil is the top coffee-producing nation and Vietnam is second.

Filtered Vietnamese coffee is served either black or, more usually, with condensed milk. It can be taken either hot or with ice cubes. Prices range from $2 for black coffee to $2.50 for the iced drinks.When Thoi Nguyen opened Pho Hung restaurant on Bloor St. W. 19 years ago, most Torontonians didn’t know how to drink Vietnamese coffee.

Now his son runs the original restaurant and Nguyen looks after the second location on Spadina Ave., where iced coffee with condensed milk is a favourite among diners.

Condensed milk is a holdover from pre-refrigerator times in Vietnam. It is canned so it can be preserved and easily transported.

“Nowadays there are many imitators of cold coffee,” says Nguyen, referring to Tim Hortons versions. “None are strong like mine.”

For hot coffees, the cups are first rinsed with hot water. Condensed milk is added to the cup (if desired) and an individual filter with dark roast is set on top and filled with hot water. You can loosen the lid slightly to speed up the filtration, but it weakens the brew. You can dilute the coffee with more hot water, if desired and give it a hard stir to mix in the condensed milk.

If you’re not a regular espresso drinker, Vietnamese coffee will give you a serious jolt. Explaining the potency of his coffees, Nguyen says some regular customers are tired doctors who drink two black coffees over ice in one sitting.

Nguyen, however, starts his day with a single cup of the hot brew.

Pho Hung Vietnamese Restaurant, 350 Spadina Ave. (north of Dundas St. W.), 416-593-4274. Also at 200 Bloor St. W. (west of Avenue Rd.), 416-963-5080.