But now, as hot summer days turn to cool fall nights, we’d rather have a drink that lights a fire within us rather than squelching the sun without. Can we keep the rummy minty goodness of a Mojito, but rejigger it into something toasty? How about a warm cup of Mojijoe?

First, get all your ingredients:

I started with the sugar (2ish tbsp), mint (4-5 leaves), and just a squirt of lemon juice. I didn’t have a muddler handy, so I used the back of a spoon to mash it together just enough to bruise the tasty oils out of the mint leaves.

I added the rum (1.5 oz) next, then stirred and mashed a bit more. I used dark rum rather than the usual white; I thought it would compliment the coffee better.

Then the coffee. Then stir.

But um, I wouldn’t recommend the fancy glass. Oww, poor fingers. I guess mugs have handles for a reason. Also, the mint leaves kinda get in the way. So you may want to use one of these deals:

After all that, how’s it taste? Good! With the rum and mint, it’s very reminiscent of a crème de menthe-based dessert coffee, except the fresh mint has a more authentic taste and smell. It’s very rich; a whole mug may be too much. However, just a few sips were enough to have the intended warmth-in-the-belly effect.

The Mojijoe is going in the success category.

Since then, the community has banded together, offering suggestions that could prevent this tragedy from ever happening again. Many people suggested that temperature was a key factor. So let’s just chill out and try a few new techniques.

Frozen Tim Tam with Hot Coffee:

Freezing a regular Tim Tam overnight was a definite improvement. Suckage increased by at least 1 or 2 sucks, so that a decent amount of Tim Tam flavoured coffee could be extracted before it all fell apart. Even after its messy death, some particularly cold spots remained intact.

Frozen Caramel Tim Tam with Iced Coffee:

Just biting off the corners, it was clear that there were some solid bits in the frozen caramel Tim Tam.

Oh wow, so many sucks! This biscuit refuses to go mushy. I hoovered 5 or 6 good squirts of coffee, and even after that it didn’t crumble, but just lost its ability to transport liquid.

Biting into it was not tooth-friendly. A solid skeleton of jagged caramel had kept the whole thing together, and the cold coffee had done nothing to soften it.

Using the frozen caramel kind and sucking up cold coffee is the best way to delay the senseless murder of Tim Tams.

The Tim Tam Slam is the practice of drinking a hot beverage, e.g. hot chocolate, through a Tim Tam (a commercial biscuit).

Hey, coffee is a hot beverage!

Tim Tams are Australian, so I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find them. Thankfully, they seem to be as ubiquitous as Fosters’s, so I found them at a larger Canadian grocery store.

They had two kinds, regular and caramel, so obviously I got both. To prepare for the Tim Tam slam, you bite off opposite corners.

Then you dunk one end in the coffee and, quickly, clamp your mouth around other end and suck like you’ve never sucked before. The tricky part of this process—and probably the reason it’s called the Tim Tam Slam rather than the Tim Tam Leisurely Suckle—is that the whole thing immediately begins to disintegrate when the coffee hits it. You really only get one good suck in before it’s mush in your hands.

The caramel kind was harder to hoover through, but lasted a bit longer. Maybe a suck and a half. Plus the ribbon of caramel acts like a skeleton to keep the whole thing intact even after the slam, making it easier to eat.

So the whole experience doesn’t last long, but while it does, it is a sweet one. The coffee picks up chocolate and liquified biscuit as it travels, arriving in your mouth with burst of sugary goodness.

The rest of it often plops into the coffee unless you can catch it in time. This gives the coffee itself a very nice mocha flavour, and even the soggy bits at the bottom are not half bad. They can be spooned out for a tiramisu-type treat.

Just be sure to wash your hands before attempting this. You’re going to end up licking them, and you wouldn’t want them pre-flavoured with Cheeto dust and whatever other filth you usually have coating your grubby flesh mittens. Might wanna have a napkin nearby too. Especially if you plan on writing a blog post about it and don’t want your keyboard all sticky. Oops.

Anyway, I highly recommend this messy success. Tim Tams and coffee are a match made in Australia heaven.

Note: Sorry for the blurry pictures. I was forced to use my iPhone 3GS, since I can’t even afford an iPhone 4. Oh hey, look, you can buy merchandise over to the right there!

Unfortunately, it was as delightful as you’d expect. The half-melted chocolate and coffee-soaked biscuit are an improvement over dry Twix.

I had already dunked and devoured both bars before thinking of this, but I wonder if it is possible to suck up the coffee through the biscuit after biting off both ends.

This would resemble the Tim Tam Slam, which is something I have always wanted to try, but Tim Tams seem to only be available in Australia. Anyone out there know of a way to procure a Tim Tam here in Ontario? Please tell me, and I will both love you forever and give you credit for what would surely be an embarrassingly messy post.

Update Aug 5th: I found Tim Tams (at Loblaw, go figure)! How come you guys never told me how good these are? Stay tuned; I’ll try them with coffee if I don’t eat them all on their own first.

I still had some bread cheese left. I’d heard it’s good with brown sugar and cinnamon baked on. I had the brilliant idea of topping coffee with a layer of the cheese, topping that with cinnamon and sugar, broiling it in the oven, then having a lovely crust to sip the coffee through, giving it just a hint of the cheesey brilliance before finishing it off with a soon.

I soon realized that there was not a large enough slice of cheese left to cover the whole ramekin (yes that’s a real word; look it up), and it wouldn’t be much of a “crust” if it immediately sank to the bottom. Thus, I drafted up and implemented a complex cheese apparatus, with smaller bits of cheese acting as supports to keep the larger slice aloft.

Of course, now is when this cheese finally decides to get its melt on. It immediately collapsed to the bottom of the coffee.

Regardless of its structure, it smelled delicious. But, well, you put anything with cinnamon in an oven, and it’s going to smell great. Luckily, this lived up to its smell. I had to use a spoon, treating it more like soup than coffee, but oh what gooey goodness.

This reminded me a lot of French Onion soup, in texture and even in taste; it’s a bit less salty, more sweet, but it’s got that delightful soggy melted cheese flavour that the French refer to as merde fondu dans ma bouche.¹

People with less adventurous pallets would probably be turned off by this unusual combination of flavours. But when you think about it, coffee, cheese, and cinnamon all have an earthy quality to them. In fact, next time I do this, I’ll leave out the sugar and add some cognac, further emphasizing that this works better as a soup than a dessert coffee.

All of these bread cheese experiments have been successful. I give it my serious recommendation. If juustoleipa isn’t available where you live (as it isn’t here), I’m sure other cheeses could be substituted. Swiss, Gruyere or emmenthal could have similar results. And as we saw, cheddar has its place in coffee.

Thanks again to Monica Wright for the bread cheese and continual awesomeness. And thanks to you, Internet, for your incoming suggestions. Got more? Got enough for a whole other week of coffee experiments? Send them in.

¹ No they don’t.

It is only logical, then, to put the two together, and name it after cops. Here is copfee.

The first thing I tried was simply dipping a donut (sour cream glazed) in coffee. A curious thing happened: I held it there for a few seconds (to snap a picture), and when I tried pulling it out, it had disintegrated into mush, and a piece of the donut was breaking off, getting sucked into the coffee. It was like the coffee and donut wanted to become one, so they could be together forever.

It continued to liquify as I pulled it out.

The rest of the coffee had donut mush on top. It tasted kinda good once I got over the slimy texture. But surely there must be a better way to integrate these flavours.

I got myself more coffee and a vanilla dip with sprinkles, then went to work. By “went to work” I mean I put them in a blender.

I took the lid off, and immediately noticed the smell; it was like I’d walked into a donut shop. That smell of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee. It tastes much the same way. The main flavour that comes through is the breadiness of the donut, although the icing and sprinkles are hanging around too.

This is actually not bad. The baked dough taste is something I haven’t yet experienced in my coffee creations, and it works. I’d do this again, but maybe with a slightly higher icing to dough ratio.

There is a sludge at the bottom as usual, but not much of one, presumably due to the aforementioned donut-liquifying powers of coffee.

Copfee needs a bit of work before I can label it a success, but it’s close. And when I get there, expect to see me setting up a booth outside the local police station to fill cops’ cups. I’ll either be unimaginably successful or arrested for perpetuating cruel stereotypes.

Apparently cassava looks like this:

Hmm. Not something I’d want to put near my tongue, but luckily it came all peeled and chopped up. Some Googling revealed that it’s a potato-like vegetable. Tapioca is made from processing it into flour. I also came across this tidbit:

Konzo is an epidemic paralytic disease. The outbreaks are associated with several weeks of almost exclusive consumption of insufficiently processed bitter cassava.

How can you resist a vegetable with its own paralytic disease?

As for how to prepare it, a friend on Twitter suggested this recipe for Vietnamese cassava cake. Hopefully making it into a cake would be “sufficient processing” to stave off the konzo.

The cake was … different. The cassava has a unique taste; kind of like potato, but with a bitter aftertaste that I attribute to the konzo-causing cyanide.

I couldn’t eat the whole thing though, so it was time to throw some in coffee.

I can definitely taste the cassava. That bitterness I mentioned seems to be accentuated by the coffee. However, this isn’t terrible. To be honest, I wasn’t a big fan of the cake, so this was a good excuse to plop some in coffee, take two sips, then toss it down the drain. Yet here I am, halfway through the mug, still drinking.

The caramel taste of the condensed milk is nice here (and would probably be great in coffee on its own). The texture is thicker than coffee, kinda powdery.

It’s getting even thicker as I get to the bottom. I can taste the poison bitterness more and more with each sip.

There’s a slight sludge at the bottom, but not enough to worry about. Bottoms up!

Oh god. Is that a tingling in my extremities?