The Misunderstood Experience of Tea

Tea, as it is understood in the States, is a wonderful beverage…under the right conditions.  Tea is great when you are sick.  Tea is great when you need a healthy break from coffee.  Tea is great with a plate of General Taos, and is exceptional paired with what the English call a “biscuit” (which is really more like a cookie).  But how about tea as an every day, every situation beverage?

Upon first glance, tea seems pretty one dimensional.  It is tan.  It is hot.  It tastes like lemon or sugar or whatever has been added to it.  Otherwise it would be bitter.

For a good portion of our lives, this is the image of the drink.  It was the Lipton our moms gave us when were was playing hooky from school.  It is the same narrowness of experience that has created an American disinterest in tea, especially here in the Midwest, where people prefer the solidness and reliability of a good cup of coffee.

But, with the reality of tea’s reputation, there is an experience gravely overlooked.  A cup of cinder yellow, slightly floral aroma, like a garden in late spring, hinting of an unrecognizable fruit, and then a taste at the front of the tongue, the side of the tongue, the center of the tongue.  Both drying and sweet.  Both simple and complicated.  And a finish of slightly-sugared apricot.

Then there is the process of tea.  The perfect steep.  How the richness of a tea comes from its oils.  How the bitterness of a tea comes from its tannins, which can be controlled by steeping time and water temperature.  Then there is the geography of tea.

The tea described two paragraphs back is a Third Flush Darjeeling, which comes from a small mountainous region of northeastern India, i.e. “Darjeeling.”  “Third Flush” refers to the season in which the leaves were picked.  A First Flush tea is picked in the spring.  A Second Flush is harvested in the summer.  A Third Flush is autumnal.  Aside from the season of its cultivation, the region, quality, and processing of a tea play a big role in its end product.  As you may imagine, it gets progressively confusing from there.

Everyone is different, but for me what is important is that I am able to sit here, writing this, and drink a cup of perfectly steeped tea, needing no lemon wedge, no scoop of sugar, no honey or milk or equal in order to be sweet and interesting.  It is perfect, pure, and with every new tea I try, I feel the world shrinking and feel as though I am becoming a little bit more attached to it.