third cup of tea means it's time for you to go

tea hospitality

Got into an intriguing discussion with some fellow tea obsessives and something made me stumble over to my bookshelf and pull The World of Caffeine down.  It's a book by Bennett Alan Weinberg and Bonnie K. Bealer that I sometimes turn to for reference.

We were specifically talking about the first mention of tea in Europe, and whether there was anything worth noting before the Dutch started bringing back by ship.  Other than Marco Polo mentioning it in relation to its use being taxed (1285), one particular Venetian wrote about tea while describing his travels to China.

He was called Giambatista Ramusio, and he reported about tea in 1559 in Chai Catai (tea of China) which is part of his posthumously published Navigatione et Viaggi (Voyages and Travels), after he heard about it from a Persian caravan merchant Hajji Mahommed (Chaggi Memet).  So that's the first time tea was officially referred to in Europe.

But while the Venetians were going the overland route, the Portuguese discovered the quickest way to China was around the Cape of Good Hope.  Rather than get more specific about the general history, I'll include an entire paragraph about the Portuguese Jesuit priests and their relation to tea.

'The Portuguese traders and the Portuguese Jesuit priests, who like Jesuits of every nation busied themselves with the affairs of caffeine, wrote frequently and favorably to compatriots in Europe about tea.  Strangely enough, there is no record of their sending tea shipments from the East for the enjoyment of their countrymen.  In 1556, Father Gasper Da Cruz, a missionary, became the first to preach Catholicism in China; when he returned home in 1560, he wrote and mentioned the first mention of tea in Portuguese, "a drink called ch'a, which is somewhat bitter, red, and medicinall."  Another Portuguese cleric, Father Alvaro Semedo, in 1633 wrote an early account of the tea plant and the preparation of the beverage in his book about China, Relatione della Grande Monarchia della Cina (1643).  He mentions the custom, initiated at the Hann Pass by Yin Hsi, of offering tea to guests, and explains that when it is offered for the third time, it is time for the guest to move along.'

(source: The World of Caffeine pp. 61-63)

There are two things I like about this.  Firstly, did Jesuits of every nation really busy themselves with caffeine?  Isn't that a weird turn of phrase?  I must admit it's the first time I've found myself daydreaming of being just such a Jesuit priest.  Purely for caffeine reasons, I assure you.

And the other thing?  Well, of course it's the three-cups-and-you're-out-of-here part.  Isn't that curious?  One of the above-mentioned tea people, I think it was Michael J Coffey, pointed out that this was a funny spin on Greg Mortenson's Three Cups of Tea. 

The first cup-you were a stranger. By the second you were a friend, and simultaneously while I serve you that third cup, you're both family and I'm going to give you The Bum's Rush.  Here's your hat-what's your hurry?

dying of tea drinking

'King Gustav III (1746-92), determined to prove coffee was a poison, ordered a convicted murderer to drink coffee every day until he died. In an attempt to do things scientifically, he ordered another murderer to drink tea daily, as a control, and appointed two doctors to oversee the experiment and report on which prisoner died first. Unfortunately, both doctors died and Gustav III was murdered before either prisoner succumbed. The two prisoners enjoyed, or at least endured, a long life until the tea drinker finally succumbed first at the age of eighty-three.'
(source: The World of Caffeine p.93)

Have been thinking about prohibitions of many kinds lately, and it might surprise you to know that European leaders didn't always see the merits of caffeine consumption. For some reason coffee got the brunt of this over the years. It was a dangerous beverage.

I wonder what it must've been like to be one of these prisoners forced to play guinea pig and drink these exotic liqueurs...as punishment. If I were either one of them, but especially the tea drinking one, I'm not sure how easily I'd be able to deceive my torturers. Right?

Even if it was sub-quality tea, and I'm assuming it wasn't first flush Darjeeling, the ordeal of being forced to drink tea daily would be a welcome respite from the drudgery of prison life. If they got the idea that I was enjoying it, I'm sure the doctors might feel obligated to find an unhappier subject.

So, there I am staring over at my coffee drinking colleague. We both make as if this is really the worst misfortune that could ever befall such poor creatures such as we. But we're smiling inside. We guinea pigs.

History of tea coming to Russia

The largest tea consuming nation in Europe? Russia. I know the Irish drink more per capita. And the Russians aren’t really Europe, right? Well, sure they are. What’s wrong with you. All day, they swill from the samovar. Because it keeps the tea near a constant boil, this might be the perfect way to drink black tea. When in Moscow, drink it like the Moscovites. They take their muddy, dark tea strong and with a bit of lemon and a lot of sugar. A lot. No…more. Keep pouring the sugar. Or honey. Or jam. Jam? That’s right. Look what I found:

Russian Tea Traditions: The Russian interest in tea began as early as 1618 when the Chinese embassy in Moscow presented several chests of tea to Czar Alexis. The samovar, adopted from the Tibetan ‘hot pot’, is a combination bubbling hot water and teapot.

Placed in the centre of the Russian home, it could (run) all day and serve up to forty cups of tea at a time. Again showing the Asian influence in the Russian Culture, guests sipped their tea from glasses in silver holders very similar to Turkish coffee cups. The Russians have always favoured strong tea highly sweetened with sugar, honey, or jam.

Source: iPhone app Tea Timer

Compared to other European countries, Russia was a late adaptor to tea. The Russians were even resistant to it initially. Two Russian Marco Polos came back from China in the late sixteenth century talking of the tea plant, but had no samples. As mentioned above, the year that we know tea first made it’s way to Imperial Russia is 1618. It was brought to the czar, and not very well received. The Russians just weren’t that impressed.

Not until near the end of that century (1689), was Russia intrigued enough by tea to bother importing any of it. It took a full year at the time for the camel caravan to make its way from China to Russia by way of Manchuria and Mongolia, and the Chinese accepted furs in exchange for the huge chests of tea. Four chests carrying nearly six hundred pounds of tea could be carried by each camel, and by the turn of the century (1700) there were as many as six hundred camels per year. It was pricey. And took forever to get each shipment. When I think of UPS delivering my tea from Hamburg or London, I’m immensely grateful. Immensely.

It was only the Trans-Siberian Railway (1880) that relieved the caravan from their heavy burden. Until then, any tea one drank in Moscow came overland. The yearlong wait by way of camel was cut to seven weeks on the train. Not too shabby.

I always credit my sources here, and as smart as I like to think myself, this information wasn’t just swimming round my brain. I needed to do a bit of research, and the treasure trove about tea history that seems to never fail me is a book recommended to me by Indonique called The World of Caffeine by Bennet Alan Weinberg and Bonnie K. Bealer.