For Achmed Achmed

Achmed was a young man who worked in the Kitchen of the King’s palace when he was not working as a goat boy. He was bright but shy and the other workers teased him unmercifully, calling him “goat man”, stinker or goatee. He kept away from these bullies as much as he could by guiding his animals away from the city until dusk. He did like food and sometimes tried to find food in the brush. One day he picked some red berries which were pulpy around a hard seed.  He tried to crush the stone-like inner part in his mouth which broke off in a few pieces, and startled him. There was a new alertness that came through his mouth, and though bitter the excitement gave him ideas about the possibility of bringing a new drink to the King and court.

He asked one of the chefs for a mortar and pestle to grind the seeds, which were still bitter, but might be a way to make a drink. The head chef watched him rather bemusedly and suggested that roasting the crushed beans would add a flavor that would make it richer.

Achmed had another idea. One of his few friends in the court, who did not torment him, was the honey man whose duty was to find the natural sweetner for the upper royalty In the castle. It was closely guarded. So the goatherd went one day to the  honey man and asked him if he would steal a small amount of honey. Then the two miscreants made two cups of ground beans, boiling water, and honey which made a lovely drink. But the young goat herder had one more stroke of inspiration—milk from goat, or sheep or camel.

Of course the rest is history from Yemen to Starbucks. It is not too late to pay the indemnity to a peaceful, poor little country which wants to live.