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.

Secular Tea Ceremony

Had a few appointments today and the wearther turned out much better than forecasted, so I packed a few thermoses of tea and invited my clients to sit in the park while we talked. The more I've been reading about tea ceremony, the more I consider the daily motions I go through.

Just to be clear, I know there's a religious/spiritual element to the traditional tea ceremony and I'm not comparing what I do to that. I'm not even going to attempt to decipher that part of the tea ceremony. But I have read about the great care that goes into choosing not just the tea but the right utensils and so forth.

So my question is: What's my tea ceremony? When I pack my tea for a day's journey, what exactly is involved?

Certainly I think about who I'm meeting. If I know they don't like black teas, then I'll make one thermos of Oolong and another of green. Some people only drink black with a bit of milk. If I don't know the person I'm meeting well, I prepare one thermos with milk and one without. Carrying a few packets of sugar seems to be the easiest solution to that quandary. An additional pair of thermoses with and without sugar seems a bit much, eh?

Many times I make tea in the early morning before I'm fully conscious. Because the process is repeated so many times in a normal day, I find myself coming in and out of a sort of trance state while preheating the pot. I pour that hot water into the thermoses and gather everything else (cups and assorted cookies/biscuits if I have any), while the tea steeps.

It's really a pleasure when we're finally sitting there in the park with fresh tea. Not quite the same as home, but nearly.

Tea drinkin

Here's a funny situation...I couldn't open my document with the blogpost I'd written on it. It was early morning, and I wanted it to show up on Thursday, so I just wrote 'tea drinkin' and figured I'd modify it later.

Almost immediately, Ice Hellion responded with a 'me too'.

So, I was thinking. Dangerous for me, I know. If I wanted to, I could wait and post what I wanted to for today in tomorrow's slot, and I can write any mad thing I want knowing that Ice Hellion has already admitted to the same thing.

Like:

I don't drink tea, I smoke it.

or:

I think people who drink tea are aok.

Well, hmmm...

I can't think of anything to rope Ice Hellion into. It's too bad actually. Missing a golden opportunity.

So here's what I'm doing right now as I write this. I'm sipping a cup of excellent Formosa Oolong. Am pretty sure there's at least one other someone out there drinking tea right now, too. Maybe she'll comment.

Full Moon Fever

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she's half crazy
But that's why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.
And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them"
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.

Now Suzanne takes your hand
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that you can trust her
For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.
Leonard Cohen’s Suzanne

Am listening to this song quite a lot lately. Who doesn't like Leonard Cohen?

Also like another French Canadian writer called Mordecai Richler. Writer, philosopher. Brilliant. What is it about Quebec that creates such fantastic artists? Nothing against Ontario or BC, but wow. Maybe you've never even heard of Richler. In that case, I'd recommend Barney's Version. Highly. Get a copy. You'll be glad you did.

So back to Suzanne...the line about tea and oranges all the way from China is why I'm talking about this song on a #teablog. Have been listening to this song since I was 13. Over and over and over again. I've known far too many women who were also 'half crazy', but that was exactly why I wanted to be there.

When I write songs, I try to conjure the things that Cohen does. 'Jesus was a Sailor'. Wow. Is there a better introduction in a song? I don't know of any. Hello Jesus.

So, here I am on a beautiful full-moon evening/early morning, listening to a French Canadian classic, wondering if I'll ever eat Chinese oranges. I certainly drink quite a lot of Chinese tea. Lately, I've drunk too much China Yunnan green. Wonderful tea. Someone in the comments section once encouraged me to give China Yunnan another chance.

The milky moonlight is so bright, I could almost turn out the lights and still read a book by it. I love the full-moon. Great Tom Petty record about it. And Neil Young wrote a classic song and record about a Harvest Moon.

Geiz ist geil!

Something I've only started doing recently (thanks to prodding by Sir Will and Asiatic Fox) is infusing white, green and Oolong tea. I knew you could, and had tried my hand at it a number of times. But every attempt was a small failure and I'd resigned myself to black tea and one time around with non-black teas.

Not anymore. I'm steeping green tea, drinking that pot, infusing it again, drinking the second pot and in some cases I'm able to even get a decent third infusion out of the same sock/bag of tea. A few things I've read or figured out: don't use boiling water if you're going to attempt this. You shouldn't be using boiling water with non-black teas anyway, but especially if you want to infuse the tea.

Every tea has an optimal water temperature. I get a ballpark figure from different tea sites (like steepster.com or ratetea.net), but ultimately you have to figure out the perfect temperature yourself. 80 degrees centigrade seems to be good for most green teas. That's my best estimate so far.

Let me know if you've tried this and what your experience has been.

Drink better tea.

Drink better tea

We've had several days of beautiful, almost perfect weather, and I was beginning to get accustomed to it. Today is overcast and the rain stops and starts. A bit like Hamburg. I love it.

I find that this is thinking weather. Far superior to clear, blue skies. When the sun is out and it's warm enough to lay in the grass while the dogs scamper round me, it's not particularly likely that I'll get philosophical. Quite the oposite will happen.

My brain empties and I find myself really entering into some sort of odd half zen/half stupid state. It's not a bad thing, but it's not necessarily good for productivity. Today I've already written for a few hours and had a doctor's appointment. Now I'm on my way to my first meeting of the day. I always walk into such Monday morning appointments with a spring in step. This is the advantage to doing something you really like.

Don't tell my clients how much I love my job. They'd never pay me to do it. I'm sure of it.

What tea am I drinking these days, you ask? Quite a lot of Darjeeling. Even have a Darjeeling Oolong that I found in Hamburg (have written about it here before) and it's been a nice mid-morning follow-up to my initial pot of Assam. Still brew the Assam Hajua that I love so much most mornings. Love the dark, bitter taste of Assam Hajua first thing. After that I drink something a bit lighter.

And thanks to something Asiatic Fox and Sir William of the Leaf have been chatting about. I've been infusing white, green and Oolong teas twice and sometimes three times. The tea lasts longer, tastes fantastic and I'm really enjoying figuring out how long the various teas should steep and at what temperature to make them stretch out optimally.

For those of you who still bristle at my fiction, please be tolerant. I had a blast yesterday with my little #teahobo. He's certainly not based on anyone I know, but he does reminds me of so many old men I've been acquainted with over the years. Let me know if it's still confusing when I write prose here. Hope once a week or twice a month I can still do that without alienating my scores of loyal readers.

Have a great Monday and drink better tea. You'll be glad you did.

Could you get me some tea SIR?

I’m like Steve Martin in that movie about the guy who invents a handle for his glasses. What was that movie called? Hate it when I cain’t remember something so easy as that. Stupid mind. Used to be smart. Smart enough. Livin’ out in the elements ain’t so good for your brain. Or your heart. My heart’s ok, I guess. Hope so anyway. No way I’m going to no doctor anyway. Ev’erbody’s all up in arms about health insurance these days. I wouldn’t go in there even if I had all the insurance up to my neck.

My granny told me she din’t ever see a doctor. Ever. She said she wanted to see a doctor twice. Once when she was born and then again when she died. And that’s not a bad plan if you ask me. Really.

I don’t need nothin’ or nobody. Like old Steve. Stupid jerk. I don’t even need a lamp or a tennis racket. Nothin’. Long as I don’t get robbed or get sick, I have a pretty good life out here. Hard to believe, huh? I know. But it’s the God’s honest truth. No appointments. Don’t gotta rush anywhere or act like I give a damn. Used to read a lot. Cain’t do that so much anymore because my eyes’re goin’, but when I could read easier I went ev’erday to the libary. Long as I didn’t gt too hungry, I could read all damned day. Specially in the summer. One a really hot day, I used to sit in there all day. Woulda slept there if they’d a let me.

But I’m set up pretty good here now. I got a tent and ‘lectricity. Can boil water’n heat up a can of beans. ‘Tsall a man really needs if you think about it. I can charge my phone and stay in touch with the world. Just last year I finally learned how to use a computer. Man at the library told me I could do all this crap if I just got some damned email. He was right, you know. All he said was true.

Got an email and then for a while that’s all I did there on the computer. My brother has a computer too, and he and I sent those emails back and forth to each other. He lives on the other side of town, but we don’t never see each other. We get along ok. I think it’s better when family stays the hell out of your life. Best way I can see it workin’. Thanks to email, I don’t ever need to see him and his family no more at all. They always invite me over there for holiday, but I know they don’t want me there. Probably heard in church that they should reach out to the unfortch’nates and I was the first thing came to mind.

But holidays are the best time to be a hobo. People forget you the rest of the year-don’t even see you, then Christmas rolls around and they’re just lookin’ for somebody they can do good things to. And for some reason I attract ev’er damned one of them do-gooders. Jerks.

I’m just minded my own business today. Sittin’ down by the VFW hall sippin’ some tea out of the lid of my thermos, and these people come along. You could tell they was do-gooders. From a mile off. And the questions these people ask. In the first thirty seconds you can tell they think you’re some sort of wild animal. Like they’re human and those of us out here on the street are some kinda sub-human.

‘You have enough to eat there, Sir?’

They always call you Sir. Makes ‘m think they’re showing you respect. Does the opposite, actch’ly. You think that man ever says ‘Sir’ to another adult in his life. Except for talking to homeless people, he han’t called no man Sir since he was in short pants. I told him I had plenty to eat and didn’t need no help. He just wouldn’t let it go. Kept at it.

‘Could some clothes help out a bit? We have a box of clothes in the back of our car there.’

Now, I knew he didn’t mean me no harm. But I was tryin’ to enjoy my damn tea. So I lost it a little. I asked him, ‘You know what you could do for me, SIR?’, I asked him.

Ooh, that wasn’t the thing to say. You could see him get all warmed up. I could a nearly had him down at the next Utotem or Stop n Go getting’ me a cold one. But I told you last time-I ain’t no drinker. ‘Cept for this tea. Not a drunk. Oh no.

So I wanted to run this ol’ boy off and said something to do just that. ‘You have any tea?’, I said. ‘I’m ‘bout to run outa my loose-leaf tea out here.’ Could see by the look on his face that was the last thing that man thought I was gonna ask for.

He said one thing back to me and then he left. That’s all I wanted. For him to just get out of here. All he said was, ‘No. But we can get you some. We can go get you some tea.’

Like I really believe that man’s gonna go get tea and bring it back here to me.