While I enjoyed reading your words, NOTHING would induce me to accept tea dribbled from a pipe.
The ritual of tea-making is as important as the potion itself. I have been known to travel with a minuscule teapot, though lately a fine sieve and my travel cup have done sterling service in its place.
While I enjoyed reading your words, NOTHING would induce me to accept tea dribbled from a pipe.
The ritual of tea-making is as important as the potion itself. I have been known to travel with a minuscule teapot, though lately a fine sieve and my travel cup have done sterling service in its place.
The first tea of the day is invariably tempered by milk and honey, while that in the afternoon is often taken weak and black (as is the one accompanying lunch). Like your mother, I will from time to time make a thick syrupy masala chai, though mine never tastes quite so delicious as that on the streets of Jaipur.
As to the tea itself, my brews encompass my own version of Lady Grey (for the making of which I grow my own cornflowers and dry blood orange zest) along with various tisanes gathered from the garden.
I don’t think a pipe could replace the pleasures (bordering on witchcraft) of concocting my brews.
haha I think I reached a similar conclusion by the end of the piece—I 100% agree with you that the ritual of tea-making is as important as tea itself and such a huge part of the pleasure one derives from it! Your miniature teapot sounds so cute and useful, and I love your descriptions of the teas you make—your Lady Grey sounds absolutely wonderful. Thank you so much for sharing, India—maybe it's not quite witchcraft, but tea-making is definitely a kind of magic!
While I enjoyed reading your words, NOTHING would induce me to accept tea dribbled from a pipe.
The ritual of tea-making is as important as the potion itself. I have been known to travel with a minuscule teapot, though lately a fine sieve and my travel cup have done sterling service in its place.
The first tea of the day is invariably tempered by milk and honey, while that in the afternoon is often taken weak and black (as is the one accompanying lunch). Like your mother, I will from time to time make a thick syrupy masala chai, though mine never tastes quite so delicious as that on the streets of Jaipur.
As to the tea itself, my brews encompass my own version of Lady Grey (for the making of which I grow my own cornflowers and dry blood orange zest) along with various tisanes gathered from the garden.
I don’t think a pipe could replace the pleasures (bordering on witchcraft) of concocting my brews.
haha I think I reached a similar conclusion by the end of the piece—I 100% agree with you that the ritual of tea-making is as important as tea itself and such a huge part of the pleasure one derives from it! Your miniature teapot sounds so cute and useful, and I love your descriptions of the teas you make—your Lady Grey sounds absolutely wonderful. Thank you so much for sharing, India—maybe it's not quite witchcraft, but tea-making is definitely a kind of magic!