Legend has it that coffee beans were first discovered in Ethiopia by a goat herder who had noticed his goats become more energetic and unable to sleep at night after consuming the dark-coloured ‘berries’ of a certain tree.[1] It is likely, however, that the realistic approach to this tale would be that Ethiopia was home to ‘undomesticated coffee varieties’ trees, and that coffee was consumed as a food group by indigenous Ethiopian tribes.[2] Yemen remains the territory where coffee production found itself, making coffee one of the only commodities that were not brought from the New World nor Europe. The name commonly employed in Persian and referring to the beverage is qahva, which does not vary significantly from its Arabic derivative, qahwa, and is only slightly persianised through differing pronunciation. Its entrance into Safavid society (1501-1722) is clouded with mystery, while many studies tend to point out the domino effect caused by the development of coffeehouses in major Middle Eastern cities, and Istanbul in particular.
This essay focuses and argues in favour of the alleged popularity of coffee in Safavid Iran, often downplayed by the idea that tea is nowadays considered the national drink of the country. Focused on consumerism in Safavid society, the paper is segmented into six sections, the first three attempt to understand how, where and by whom coffee was consumed in Safavid Iran and the ideas that can be deducted about Iranian society at that time. The fourth section will consider the legal and religious aspects and debates around coffee drinking, while the last one is focused on the place of Safavid Iran in a globalised world and what can coffee importations tell us about state policies and actors at play. Finally, one section will tackle issues found in scholarly literature, essentially covering the limitations posed by the nature of the topic studied and how can new tools can be used to create a vaster repertoire for Safavid History.
First mentions of coffee in the Safavid world
‘As is known, medicaments for Ibrahim (r. 1640-1648) were dissolved in coffee, in keeping with a frequent practice common in Ottoman medicine. In this context, Krusinski cites an anecdote about a concubine of the Persian Shah Ismail I Safavi (r. 1501-1524) who complained about her master’s dependence on coffee and his consequent lack of interest in her.’[3]
Matthee is quick to argue that at first, coffee was widely consumed as a bitter, but tasty beverage, and that it was known in Safavid Iran initially as a beverage with medicinal properties.[4] Goushegir establishes firmly that aside from tea and tobacco, the first mentions of coffee have been found in medicine treaties and pharmacopoeia in the early 16th century, describing it as a ‘fully acknowledged’ medical substance.[5] The quoted anecdote of Ismail’s knowledge and consumption, apart from sounding like royal gossip, not only demonstrates how early coffee was introduced and consumed in the royal circles, but also how conscious some were about its overall effects if consumed in excess. As for the introduction of coffee within the Safavid territory, credit is given to the Sufis, who supposedly ‘quickly adopted coffee because it helped them stay alert during their nighttime devotions’.[6]
‘As Marshall Hodgson points out, with characteristic perspicacity and precocity, the phenomenon of fascination with and popular recreational use of mind- or mood-moulding substances was ‘of special import for the growth of a human personality’ in the Islamdom of the post-Mongol era.’[7]Kazemi explores the emergent popularization of simultaneous consumerism, in particular, the marriage of tobacco and coffee.[8] He argues that once the combination was created and consumed across most social classes in coffeehouses with an adequate setting, its addictive pattern contributed to its large-scale consumerism, at least in Safavid urban centres.[9] To sum up, ‘the trio of tobacco, coffee, and coffeehouses serve as markers of a great cultural change, the political and social unification of the eastern Mediterranean under Istanbul and the start of the modern age in the Middle East.’[10]
The coffeehouses, observations and roles
To put it simply, the very presence of coffeehouses — or special places named after the drink and designed to enjoy it — is, I believe, very telling as a social phenomenon. Designing places dedicated to serving one main drink presented quite the achievement for coffee. Also commonly associated with a recreational place, the first coffeehouses in Istanbul appeared to be places of discussion and intellectual thriving: ‘The first coffeehouse at Istanbul was opened in 962/1555 by two men from Damascus; it was frequented by so many dignitaries, writers, and poets that it became known as the “academy of scholars”.[11] Those two Syrians, Hakm and Shams, were identified by the Ottoman chronicler Ibrahim Pecevi.[12] The coffeehouse thus appears to be a place of Arab origin later adopted with great enthusiasm by the Turks.[13] The appeal does not end there given that it is around a similar period of time that coffeehouses start to emerge in Safavid Iran, showing the connectivity of the Ottoman-Safavid world: ‘It is probable that in Persia the first coffeehouses appeared during the long reign of Shah Ṭahmāsb (930-84/1524-76), though there is no mention of them in the sources before the reign of Shah Abbās I (996-1038/1577-1629), when several were opened in Qazvīn, Isfahan,ʿolamāʾ and other cities.[14] As for coffee on its own, ‘no Persian chronicles refer to coffee until the 1590s. Similarly, none of the foreign travelers and merchants who visited the country in the sixteenth century makes any mention of coffee as either a trade commodity or a consumer item.’[15] However, the tone of certain merchants’ accounts seems to change by the end of the 17th century, suggesting a drastic shift in consumption culture right in the middle of the 17th century, the peak time of the Safavid period. The major illustration of this shift was left by the account famously written by French traveller Jean Chardin, who travelled to Iran between the 1660s and 1670s and left us with a descriptive account of the social aspect of a coffee house:
‘These houses, which are big spacious and elevated halls, of various shapes, are generally the most beautiful places in the cities, since these are the locales where the people meet and seek entertainment. Several of them, especially those in the big cities, have a water basin in the middle. Around the rooms are platforms, which are about three feet high and approximately three to four feet wide, more or less according to the size of the location, and are made out of masonry or scaffolding, on which one sits in the Oriental manner. They open in the early morning and it is then, as well as in the evening, that they are most crowded… People engage in conversation, for it is there that news is communicated and where those interested in politics criticize the government in all freedom and without being fearful, since the government does not heed what the people say. Innocent games [...] resembling checkers, hopscotch, and chess, are played. In addition, mollas, dervishes, and poets take turns telling stories in verse or in prose. The narrations by the mollas and the dervishes are moral lessons, like our sermons, but it is not considered scandalous not to pay attention to them. No one is forced to give up his game or his conversation because of it. A molla will stand up, in the middle, or at one end of the qahvehkhaneh, and begin to preach in a loud voice, or a dervish enters all of a sudden, and chastises the assembled on the vanity of the world and its material goods. It often happens that two or three people talk at the same time, one on one side, the other on the opposite, and sometimes one will be a preacher and the other a storyteller.[16]
The detailed descriptions of the traveller play in our favour here for our own interpretation of the topic. It is worth noting too that we would probably not get such accounts through the eyes of a local, since it came to be part of daily life. Noticeable details of this account include the extraordinary buildings forming the coffee houses, the recreational aspect and overall a place of escape from most public duties. The ‘Oriental manner’ here is to be considered with caution. We cannot in any way see it as an early form of ‘Orientalism’ as defined by Said. The idea referred to by Chardin here has more to do with the emergence of a trendy adoption and westernised take on certain Turkish and other Middle Eastern lifestyles or habits in the West – ‘Turkish coffee’ or alla turca – being one of them.[17]
Kafadar — and other scholars — note that ‘the emergence and spread of coffeehouses in Istanbul (as well as Cairo, Aleppo and other relevant cities) coincided with various other dynamics and processes of the early modern era’. He continues by listing three major processes: New levels of urbanization with a rise of a bourgeoisie; Increasing use of the night-time for socializing and entertainment and the rise of new forms of entertainment’.[18] Seeing how such places could impact daily life and the social understanding of classes truly is an important aspect that deserves more attention.
Coffee drinking in Safavid Iran: features of consumption
‘Drunk hot and without sugar from little china cups, it was often served with sweets and pistachio nuts, both of which enhanced its flavor, as Tunakabuni asserted.[19] Coffee, Kaempfer noted, was predominantly a winter drink; in the summer Iranians preferred sherbets.’[20]
Intuitively, one could suspect that this describing ritualisation around coffee drinking could only be accessed by a certain social class given the fluctuant price of sweets and nuts. And even though Iran is currently the world’s top pistachio exporter, it still has been a commodity associated with wealth.
Relevantly, ‘in the late Safavid chronicle Dastur-i shahbriyaran, moreover, we read how on the occasion of the visit to Mashhad of the Mughal Prince Akbar in 1696 an official banquet was organized during which coffee, rosewater, and sweets were served prior to the appearance of 150 dishes of food and an equal number of plates and sweetmeats.’[21] To avoid any confusion, Muhammad Akbar (1657-1706) was the exiled son of Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb (1618-1707) who after rebelling against his father for the control of the Deccan, stayed and died in Mashhad. Therefore, any kind of royalty — an exiled and fallen prince — would be given access to coffee, suggesting coffee was largely served in most formal settings.[22]
The qahve — and ritualised drinking process — according to Matthee, travelled across social spectrums but had different preparing steps when it came down to the royal court: ‘Coffee consumption in Safavid Iran involved a wide range of the social spectrum, beginning with the royal court. Indeed, coffee was a fixture in the shah’s very household, for a member of the royal retinue was invariably the coffee master, the so-called qahvahchi-bashi. The royal palace in Isfahan included a “coffee kitchen,” in which the coffee consumed by the royal household was stored, roasted, and prepared under the supervision of this official.’[23] Realising that the court would have gotten a dedicated kitchen space exclusively reserved for coffee making is not only fascinating but mostly goes to show the royal consideration coffee had achieved.
Shah Abbas (r. 1588-1629), for example, was among the only Safavid kings known to have pushed forward consumerism for the promotion of the state. He appears to have been a known adept of coffee drank at coffeehouses: ‘the visits Shah `Abbas frequently paid to the coffeehouses of Isfahan are reflected in the accounts of numerous foreign visitors.’[24]
In continuation with coffee service in Safavid time, ‘Du Mans claimed that, after tobacco, coffee was the second item offered to guests in Iran.’[25] Yet, Matthee notes that it would be hasty to believe coffee to have penetrated most rural spheres by the end of the Safavids.[26] Kaempfer has identified records of coffeehouses and coffee making only in a handful of villages in southern Iran, namely Shabaran, Imamzadah, and Asupas mainly through, once again, travellers’ accounts.[27] Additionally, ‘by the mid-seventeenth century, coffee was a standard beverage in governing circles outside the royal court as well. Speelman in 1652 called coffee a “very common drink” in the country […].’[28] There is really little information on particularly authentic Iranian ways to make coffee, while Hattox who compiled sources across the Middle East, has concluded that ‘in preparing coffee, three basic sorts of materials were involved: water, ground coffee, and additives. Of the first there is little to say. None of the sources makes any mention of special considerations concerning the water used. The question of additives was seldom if ever used, while milk was almost never added.’[29] These instructions coincide with what is known as Turkish coffee, the most mainstream way of consuming coffee in Safavid Iran and the Near East at large, just black with no sugar, creating a balance between the bitterness and the eventual sweets or nuts offered. Apart from unique Turkish coffee vessels like the cezve, there are is mention of similar utensil used in Iranian households in Safavid society either. However, it is not difficult to assume that special pots made with local or non-local materials would have come to be used, especially given the importance of service in coffeehouses and generally in Iran.
Safavid modes of coffee consumerism, debates around its prohibition
‘Oh black-faced one whose name is coffee,
killer of sleep,
destroyer of lust.’[30]
The ambiguity behind this Persian proverb is highlighted by the literary use of negative-sounding doer nouns, and ultimately, it would be hard to grasp whether or not ‘killing sleep’ or ‘destroying lust’ were considered bad actions in common imaginary.
Even though the idea of prohibition of coffee drinking might sound relatively absurd given everything that has been discussed so far, it is not irrelevant to have a look at the considerations in Islamic law for the consumption of such popular psychoactive substances. It is worth noting that ‘while not an intoxicant like wine, coffee does indeed possess some noticeably stimulating properties, and can have profound effects, both mental and physical, on the drinker.’[31] Present in medicinal records and consumed in enclosed public spaces, side effects of coffee were known – like in the anecdote of Ismail’s alleged coffee overdose.
Adopted by Sufis, it is interesting to see that ‘from the tenth/sixteenth century, coffee consumption spread from Yemen northwards, mainly via the Sufis and their disciples, who claimed that drinking coffee helped their ritual activity. This caused an extended debate among the ulama of different schools, who viewed the Sufis’ coffee drinking as a negative innovation opposed to the shari’a.’[32]Coffee drinking, in these terms, appears to be a topic of argument between factions of Islamic experts and even a way to discredit further the Sufi order. ‘The supporters of forbidding coffee drinking were mainly ulama in official positions such as judges.’[33] It is typical in socio-politics to find religious tribunals wanting to get more control.
However, as coffee became widespread, the lack of religious proof for its prohibition proved to be the downfall of allegations. ‘Due to the inability of the ulama to implement the prohibitions and religio-legal rulings, the authorities needed to become involved and they were asked to help the ulama combat this phenomenon.’[34] While coffee, unlike wine, is not explicitly mentioned in the Qur’an, presumably because it was undiscovered by the time the sacred text had been written, however ‘literally, coffee’s very name can explain part of the ulama’s objections to the beverage. All medieval Arabic dictionaries are united in interpreting the word qahwa as signifying wine (khamr), which is forbidden by the Quran.’[35]
The gaps found in penal Islamic law regarding the consumption of beverages like coffee or tea assumably gave the monopoly for Safavid’s promotion of coffee drinking. Islamic law did not present a major obstacle in that case, nor did it for wine consumption in Safavid Iran, especially given the long-standing importance Persian wine holds in Persian identity and culture.[36] Kazemi implies that more than a prohibitive society, Safavid Iran as it evolved in time and space, was, if not actively promoting, allowing for a daily-life culture centred around consumption and recreational activities: ‘People often consumed these substances together or replaced one for the other. Together these stimulants constituted a larger economic “drug complex” which had a crucial role in both the internal and external trade of Iran, and were as such central to the development of its early modern economy.’[37]
Overall, and especially in the case of Safavid Iran, it appears that given the spread of coffee consumption to private spheres (houses), and the state-sponsored initiative of such consumerism, implementing laws against a drink that had long been considered to have medicinal properties and that is not explicitly mentioned in the Qur’an would not have been the smartest policy on the Safavid side. This is particularly revealing of the power exerted by the State, but also how vocal the ulama would be on daily-life practice and consumerism.
Gaps in literature and non-consideration of materiality:
Opting for what might come off as a narrow case study, the historical point of view on coffee consumption unfolds certain gaps found in modern Safavid scholarship and consideration for material culture. Noticeably, aside from a handful of well-established Safavid scholars — most of them relying on each other’s works — the study of coffee and consumption, in general, is sparse, lacking, and definitely leaves a curious mind begging for more. The booming popularity and institutionalisation of coffee and coffee shops worldwide in our age should signify a gain of interest in the history of this commodity, regardless. It would be particularly compelling for Middle Eastern and Iranian scholars to highlight the roots and development of the ritualisation of coffee drinking given the struggles met my area studies in general for academic recognition. This issue, I believe, is the natural result of the traditional state-focused approach to history, and Safavid history does not get spared from that. Poor consideration for cultural History, while strongly backed, presents a bigger challenge in delving into consumerism. As recent as active studying and sponsorship of Safavid history goes, it seems only natural that Iranologists struggle to manipulate new analytical tools, including materiality.
Studying patterns of consumption through our limited scope of written sources also presents limitations in the sense that we are quickly drawn to conclusions — in the sense that if we were to say that medical records are the most widely available sources we have at our disposition, then one would be tempted to conclude that most circles in Iran would drink coffee to get past their seasonal cold, while we clearly got to see, that coffee drinking quickly was recognised for what it is supposed to be like, a beverage with stimulating properties. ‘The uneven distribution of sources makes it impossible to draw definitive conclusions about the relative popularity of coffee and tea in Safavid Iran. […] Yet contemporary sources suggest that, in terms of availability and volume of consumption, neither tea nor coffee matched water and sharbat […] and that, in terms of comparative popularity, tea in Safavid times was a distant second to coffee at least outside the northern region.’[38]
Matthee and Kazemi appear to be among the most prominent Iran and Safavid English-speaking historians to tackle consumption patterns in Iranian elite and non-elite circles. Their will to fill these gaps does compensate for the lack of data available, as it gives them a bigger chance to showcase academic creativity and interpretation. Matthee, in particular, notes that ‘ironically, whereas the introduction and dissemination of coffee in (northern) Europe is fairly well documented until quite recently its history was much less well known in its west Asian lands of origin and early spread.’ [39]
He adds, in a paper focused on Iranian cuisine, that ‘early modern Iran shares the underdeveloped state of research on consumption with many parts of the non-Western world. Most of the (little) work done on Iran before the twentieth century involves production for export — silk and opium, most prominently— rather than consumption. Food —its origins and ways of preparing and consuming it — has received some attention albeit far less than Persian cuisine, recognized as one of the world’s most sophisticated, deserves.’[40][...]‘For long periods of time we know little about consumption patterns other than those pertaining to the high elite, monarchs, and their entourage of courtiers and administrative officials. Persian-language sources, rarely concerned with the materiality of life, provide little information on consumption. Several historical cookbooks, or rather food manuals, exist but, valuable and informative as they are, these reflect the static and formulaic taste of the elite.’[41]
‘It has long been recognized that Ottoman archival material holds a wealth of information on trade and other matters of interest to the economic historian. In spite of this, most studies of the commercial life of the Middle East during the sixteenth and seventeenth century have continued to rely mainly on the impressions and records of European merchants, travelers, and diplomats.’[42]Regardless of how essential and relevant Ottoman sources are for this case study, they limit our scope of interpretation and imply that patterns of consumption were identical in Safavid Iran while we know how localised cultures can get all over the Middle East. One thing that should be noted though is the relatively easy access to information about coffeehouses rather than coffee drinking on its own, which in a way, falls down under the category of consumption history. It would indeed be dishonest not to consider coffeehouses as part of studies around materiality. Scholars as we have seen, mostly base their analysis of such places on travelers’ accounts, which is both a good and bad thing. For one they can misrepresent the reality to appeal to an audience or exaggerate it.
Commerce and trading dimension of coffee drinking
As we raised the challenges coming with relative scholarly considerations for our question and failed attempts at forbidding coffee consumption by religious leaders, there is another aspect through which the study of coffee is revealing of Safavid society and functioning, which would be commerce and trade. Once again, the data for that is sparse and always has to be considered with attention, but there is admittedly more to find in scholarly literature.
An important thing to note is that coffee production on Iranian lands during Safavid rule had remained a difficult project since climate conditions would not allow for it: ‘While coffee required a specific climate, soil, and overall conditions absent in Iran, tobacco appeared suitable to flourish in various parts of the country.’[43] To perform the art of dual consumerism of tobacco and coffee, one has to be looking at claims and evidence highlighting major trading partnerships of the Safavid for coffee. They firstly imported it from its originating territory: ‘coffee trade between Yemen and Iran continued to be profitable for some time. It was only over the course of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that production from the Antilles, India, and Java displaced this trans-Arabian network, but by then coffee was no longer the most sought-after social drink in Iranian society. It had become a ceremonial offered in formal settings.’[44] Even though we have established that the very first apparition of coffee in Iran predates the 17th century, it remains extremely interesting to find out that trading corporations like the East India Company (EIC) or the Dutch East India Company (VOC), respectively founded in 1600 and 1602 amid a trading rivalry, acted as the mediums for the importation of the good to Safavid Iran: ‘The first EIC suggestion that coffee might be shipped to Iran was made in 1619, long before the directors in London requested it for the home market’[45] but, ‘it was not until 1628 that the VOC first bought coffee destined for the Iranian market.’[46] If the importation of coffee was suggested this early in Iran — before it was in Europe — it can only mean one thing about the level of demand for it.
The Dutch also understood the potential of coffee imports to Iran: ‘Tavernier observed that the Dutch on their voyage back without coffee from Mokha loaded their ships with coffee at Hormuz. Coffee as a popular drink was profitable and in great demand from Hormuz; it was exported to all
Persia and even to ‘great Tartary’ whereas coffee exported from Basra was distributed all along the Euphrates and other Turkish provinces.’[47] The Kingdom of Ormus (11th century-1622), was annexed by the Safavids in 1622 after centuries of Portuguese domination. Its strategic situation as a maritime hub and home to powerful ports (Bandar-e Abbas), made it the ideal gateway to trading monopoly eastwards and was at the heart of the Ottoman-Portuguese conflicts in the Persian Gulf (1538-1559).
These elements allow scholars to consider Safavid Iran as part of the “early globalization” dynamic with unevenly distributed effects. Indeed, ‘other than as an early modern exporter of silk and bullion and an importer of massive amounts of Asian spices and Indian textiles, the country in Safavid times […] is not known for its extensive commodity exchange with the outside world.’ [48] And interestingly enough, the same seems to apply to the Ottoman case: ‘Most subjects studied here were not part of the high-volume trade with Europe, largely because they were not mass commodities in the Ottoman empire. Manuscripts, costume albums and, in the early years, even coffee entered Europe in small quantities as gifts and for personal use.’[49] Coffee trade, thus, is arguably one of the domains through which the Ottoman and Safavid Empire appear to have been somewhat of a unified region, with established trading routes like the Basra one and relative dependency on European trading companies: ‘these cross-regional and trans-imperial merchants— especially Ottoman and Iranian ones — also followed the Basra route, as well as the two overland routes that connected Baghdad to Kermanshah and Erzurum to Tabriz. These same merchants were also involved in the distribution of coffee in various parts of the
Ottoman Empire.’[50] Basra, today an Iraqi city place at the southeast border with Iran, was also, and strategically, under the military protection of the Portuguese until Abbas I, seized it with the help of the English, demonstrating how deeply the structure of geopolitics had evolved in the space of years.
Conclusion
Kazemi estimates that the Safavid state underwent a ‘psychoactive revolution’ through which coffee found its way through different boards of Safavid society. First known and use as a medicinal beverage and popularised through Sufis and state-lead promotion, Islamic law judges did not stand a chance in prohibiting the beverage given the liberty offered by the institution of coffeehouses. By using a varied set of resources nonetheless, the paper has attempted to retrace ways through which coffee may or may not have been consumed with. We pointed out issues such as uneasy access to sources and traditional historiographical approaches that present obstacles in studying consumerist patterns. The gained popularity of coffee was gradual and dependent on imports from neighbouring countries and privileged relationships with trading companies. Only if the concept of the coffeehouse had not taken the same way it did in surrounding empires, there is little doubt that many social and cultural aspects would be different in Iran today, even though coffee has been outmatched by tea in terms of popularity from the Qajar era, the drink remains part of daily-life consumption. Also, narrowing down the study of coffee to one country and one given period also demonstrates the immediate and long-lasting effects the introduction of a good can have on all scales of society.
Charlotte Hocquet is currently doing an MLitt in Middle Eastern History at the University of St. Andrews, having graduated from SOAS University of London.
Full question of essay when assigned: To what extent is 'consumption' a useful analytical category via which Safavid state and society can be understood? Draw on the example of at least one commodity to discuss.
Notes: [1] https://www.ncausa.org/about-coffee/history-of-coffee [2] Catherine M. Tucker, Coffee Culture: Local Experiences, Global Connections (New York, 2011), p. 36. [3] Anna Malecka, “How Turks and Persians Drank Coffee: A Little-known Document of Social History by Father J. T. Krusinski”, Turkish Historical Review, Vol. 6, No. 2 (2015), p. 186. [4] Rudolph Matthee, The Pursuit of Pleasure: Drugs and Stimulants in Iranian History, 1500-1900 (Princeton, 2005), p. 146 [5] “C’est dans les traités de médecine et de pharmacopée compilés au xviesiècle, que l’on trouve les premières mentions sur le café, sa préparation et sa consommation en Iran. Le café est décrit d’abord comme une substance faisant partie d’un ensemble médicinal et pharmaco-thérapeutique comprenant le thé et le tabac.” https://books.openedition.org/iremam/2641?lang=en [6] Tucker, Coffee Culture, p. 36 [7] Cemal Kafadar, ‘How Dark is the History of the Night’, pp. 243-244 in Arzu Ortürkmen and Evelyn Birge Vitz, Medieval and Early Modern Performance in the Eastern Mediterranean (2014). [8] Ranin Kazemi, ‘Doctoring the Body and Exciting the Soul Drugs and Consumer Culture’, Iranian Studies, Vol. 49, No. 4 (2019), p. 606. [9] Ibid. [10] Uzi Baram, ‘Clay Tobacco Pipes and Coffee Cup Sherds in the Archaeology of the Middle East: Artifacts of Social Tensions from the Ottoman Past’, International Journal of Historical Archeology, Vol. 3, No. 3 (September 1999), p. 141. [11] B. Kik, “Šadarāt fī asl al-qahqa’, al-Mašreq, Vol. 6, No. 14 (1903), p. 689 found in https://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/coffeehouse-qahva-kana [12] Baram, ‘Clay Tobacco Pipes and Coffee Cup Sherds’, p. 142 [13] Ralph S. Hattox, Coffee and Coffeehouses: The Origins of a Social Beverage in the Middle near East (Seattle, 1998) p. 76. [14] Ibid. [15] Matthee, Pursuit of Pleasure, p. 146. [16] https://www.bourseandbazaar.com/articles/2016/9/19/irans-cafe-culture-and-consumer-culture [17] A. Bevilacqua and H. Pfeifer, “Turquerie: Culture in Motion, 1650-1750”, Past & Present, Vol. 221, No. 1 (2013), p. 94. [18] Kafadar, ‘How Dark is the History of the Night’, p. 244 [19] Tunakabuni, Tuhfah-i Hakim Mu’min, p. 697 cited in Matthee, Pursuit of Pleasure, p. 160 [20] Ibid, p. 160. [21]Nasiri, Dastur-i shahriyan, p. 117 cited in Matthee, Pursuit of Pleasure, p. 161. [22] Ranin Kazemi, ‘Tobacco, Eurasian Trade, and the Early Modern Iranian Economy’, Iranian Studies, Vol. 49, No. 4 (2019), p. 617 [23] Kaempfer, Ann Hofe des persischen Grosskonigs, p. 152 cited in Matthee, Pursuit of Pleasure, p. 161. [24] Ibid, p. 161 [25] Du Mans, “Estat’de 1660,” cited in Francis Richard, Raphael du Mans, missionaire en Perse au XVII siècle, Vol. 2, pp. 75-76. [26] Ibid, p. 164 [27] Kaempfer ‘Reisetagebucher’, p. 41 cited in Ibid, p. 164 [28] Ibid. [29] Hattox, Coffee, p. 83. [30] Matthee, Pursuit of Pleasure, p. 144. [31] Hattox, Coffee, p. 46. [32] Hatim Mahamid and Chaim Nissim, ‘Sufis and Coffee Consumption’, Journal of Sufi Studies, Vol. 7, No. 1-2, (2018) p. 140. [33] Ibid. [34] Ibid, p. 159. [35] Ibid, p. 141. [36] Hattox, Coffee, p. 46. [37] Kazemi, ‘Tobacco’, p. 614 [38] Matthee, ‘From Coffee to Tea: Shifting Patterns of Consumption in Qajar Iran’, Journal of World History, Vol. 7, No. 2 (1996), p. 205 [39] Matthee, Pursuit of Pleasure, p. 145 [40] Matthee, ‘Patterns of Food Consumption in Early Modern Iran’ (Oxford, 2022), p. 2 [41] Ibid. [42] Andräs Riedlmayer, ‘Ottoman-Safavid Relations and the Anatolian Trade Routes: 1603-1618’, Turkish Studies Association Bulletin, Vol. 5, No. 1 (March 1981), p. 7. [43] Kazemi, ‘Tobacco’, p. 618. [44] Ibid., p. 617. [45] Matthee, Pursuit of Pleasure, p. 148. [46] Ibid., p. 150. [47] Iftikar Khan, ‘Coffee Trade of the Red Sea in 17th and 18th Century’, Proceedings of the Indian History Congress 1996, Vol. 57 (1996), p. 307. [48] Matthee, ‘Patterns of Food Consumption’, p. 3. [49] Bevilacqua and Pfeifer, ‘Turquerie’, p. 78. [50] Kazemi, ‘Tobcco’, p. 617.
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