Saturday, 30 July 2011

tea choices for marauding teenagers or Zombie Apocalypse

So I was watching the opening scene of the 1966 British film Blow-Up this evening, and there were packs of wild (even insane) teenagers romping through the streets of London. I think it was supposed to signify the Swinging Sixties, but it served a different purpose for me.

It got me thinking.

About the Zombie Apocalypse, of course.

Whether it's marauding British teenagers in clothing styles that really can't be described as flattering or zombies in full-scale apocalypse mode, there's an obvious question that I haven't seen discussed by the more reputable teablogs. Well not yet at least.

What tea might you serve to these eerily similar groups of people? The object of serving them tea wouldn't be in any way to dissuade them from their brain eating goals. Simply put, a nice tea would at least slow them down. And potentially make the whole experience just a bit more civilised. If only a bit.

But which tea for this most delicate of situations? Be honest. It's a more difficult question than you first thought, isn't it?

My first choice was a decent first grade Keemun. Seems like this is the sort of tea many blends include to temper the boldness of a strong Assam. If it's good in that capacity, then why not here? But something about that choice just seems too easy. The zombies may or may not go for the Keemun, but I have serious doubts that the teenagers would have anything to do with such a tea. It's just a hunch.

What about a tea from Kenya? My friend Neil introduced me to Everyday Kenya from leaf tea. I wrote about it in I'll show you mine if you show me yours. That's interesting enough to please the teenagers and strong enough that the zombies might even be able to taste it. But still...I don't know. It's simply not the perfect choice.

Oh wait. I have it. Why'd it take me so long to come up with this one?

Another tea sometimes used in blends to tame an errant Assam is a good Nilgiri. The one I'm thinking of has all the attributes of the above-mentioned teas, but it's got an extra dose of zombie-halting flavour. It's one I found at Le Palais des Thés and, as you can see, I can recommend it for the most unlikely of occasions.

The name of this delicious Nilgiri is Thiashola 'Carrington', which really cannot be recommended more highly. As much as the teenagers will enjoy the actual taste of the tea, they'll get as much fun out of the name 'Thiashola' as I did when I first read it. My thoughts ran wild at the thought of a girl named Thia and her anatomy.

If nothing else, this tea's name can be employed in their sophomoric poems to rhyme with Pensacola or Indianola.

Only the most crucial of questions are answered on this teablog. I feel as if I'm providing an important service.


  1. Ooooo, I love the Nilgiri Thiashola! But isn't that a bit "advanced" for teenagers?

  2. Good point Lazy, but they'll be too distracted giggling about 'Thiashola' to be bothered with this tea's complexity. I know that when I allow myself to think about it for long, I can't help from chuckling.

    'There was a young man from Pensacola...'

  3. There was a man who avoided Pensacola
    He stayed home and brewed a Thiashola
    When the Zombies came knocking
    He found it quite shocking
    So he hid behind his pianola