Margaret hoping and hoping

Have been in a contrary mood all day and while I was deliberating what I wanted to blog about, I happened upon Robert Godden's most recent post

Where there’s life, there’s Margaret’s Hope.

He calls Margaret's Hope a gateway drug...ok, he doesn't say drug, but it is in a way.  His point is that you can get this tea almost anywhere.  Even if one doesn't know much about Darjeeling, they can probably name this estate.  And once you've tried it and got accustomed to the taste of this Darjeeling, you'll be more likely to appreciate the subtleties of an even better one.  

I like the story he tells about the origin of the name.  I wrote about it when I was relatively early on my teablogging path, and still in the throes of said gateway drug. Here's what I had to say:

Margaret's Hope? Brew it again.

I've wondered more about this little tale, and I'm glad The_Devotea has reminded me of it.  There's been a lot of talk lately in my circle of tea obsessive friends about inexperienced/unknowledgeable teashop assistants.   Not just the way some of them are lacking the most rudimentary facts about tea, but that they're willing to recklessly make stuff up in order to sell more tea.

So I'm going to play the part of the completely dumfounded teashop assistant answering the question: Where does the name Margaret's Hope come from?

See, this is the story of a girl called Margaret, who desperately waits and waits to no avail.  She's says to herself, 'Why do I have to wait?'  But there's no answer.  No matter how often she asks or for how long she waits.

Many years go by and she gets so busy with her daily life that she forgets she's even waiting.  She enjoys the small joys in her life, as well as the big milestones.  Every once in a while she has a quiet moment where she remembers that gnawing feeling that used to be so strong.

But only after decades have passed and she's sitting quietly with her tea, does she look back and realise she's had her answer all along.  She'd hoped that she made a difference, but it was when she wasn't trying so hard that she had the most impact.

She'd tried to say the right things in her life, but it was when she said as little as possible and let her actions speak loudest that she was most effective.  

Margaret's Hope was that it had all meant something.  That it wasn't yet another story of yearning and reaching that was never resolved.

The customer looks at the teashop assistant and sighs.  'What on earth are you talking about?,' he asks.  'I just wanted to buy some tea.  I didn't want some metaphysical journey.  I thought it'd be some simple story.'

Yeah, ok.  Here's the real story:

The plantation owner had two daughters. One of them, Margaret, loved it there so much and hoped to one day return. Sadly, she died and the plantation owner was understandably devastated. To honour her, he named the plantation and the tea that was grown there after her and her dreams of returning to their land. To this day, Margaret's Hope tea is associated with high quality tea from Darjeeling.

'Perfect,' says the customer, 'I'll take that.'

assuming a lizard pose

Today, after I took my mom to the bus that took her to the airport, I fetched the dogs from the sitter and thought I'd catch a catnap. Not sure I could really sleep, I brewed up a pot of Margaret's Hope Darjeeling and got plenty tea-drunk.

Then I lay down and despite the heat and the fact that it was the middle of the morning, I was out like a light. The last few days were insufferably warm, and I muscled through to be able to show my mother the city we lived in back in the early 1970s. Today, my heat exhaustion caught up with me. Full of the Margaret's Hope I reclined and was out like a light. A few hours later, I got up and was a bit surprised at how hard it was to do so.

I brewed a second infusion of the Darjeeling, and drank half of the pot before I had to lay back down. I'm not a runner, but I do a lot of hiking every year, and the way I felt was similar to how it is after a long mountain trek. Often the night after the hike is no trouble, but the next day is overwhelming.

Pot after pot of tea and just staying horizontal until mid-afternoon seemed like the only thing that would help regenerate my ailing body. Now it's one of those absolutely perfect Bavarian summer evenings that're just cool enough. Not cold, but a nice cool breeze. I've said it before, but on a night like this it feels like anything is possible.

Earlier today, I had a conversation with an acquaintance about the best weather for being productive. As optimistic and wistful as these warm nights make me, I do find that my thought process is somehow compromised. Colder weather is easier to write and work in. For one thing, I don't feel that inner drive to go out and enjoy the weather while it's good.

So, I've brewed some more Formosa Oolong, and am repeating my evening ritual. Will keep my cranium as cool as possible hoping it'll work again when the air is humane once more. Until then, I'll assume my lizard pose and conserve energy.

meditative power of tea? my ass...

The meditative power of tea drinking? My ass...

Thought about that this morning when I was trying to get everything settled/prepared for my mother's visit. Needed to make tea quickly before the dogs lost their cool. Started the day with pure Java Santosa, which I wrote about a few days ago in relation to black tea blends. The leaves of the Java Santosa are medium-sized and have little light brown tips. When I buy Darjeelings, I keep reading about the FTGFOP marking at the end of a tea's name. I wonder if this tea from Java would pass the muster in India of being called an Orange Pekoe.

I rarely try to be very educational here, but I will go ahead and impart a bit of knowledge. I assure you it happens very rarely, but you know that already. This rating (the letters after a tea's name) has to do with the quality of the tea. The Darjeeling that I usually drink has FTGFOP at the end of it, and here's what it means: Finest Tippy Golden Flowery Orange Pekoe.

When you look at some black teas, you can see little red/light brown tips on the tips of the leaves. That's where the tippy and golden come in. Orange Pekoe is used cavalierly and is endlessly confusing what it really means. Many people in the tea industry just mean that it's a black tea with a certain size of leaf. Some people just use Orange Pekoe to describe any black tea.

When I was in school, we could order Orange Pekoe tea in the cafeteria in the dorm, and it was nothing like the loose-leaf teas I talk about here. Just because you see OP at the end of a tea label, doesn't mean it's good. The letters that precede the OP are what matter.

Enough of my attempt to teach you anything. That's why God invented wikipedia...so you could go there instead of here. I've already steamed though the above-mentioned pot of Santosa, and another pot of Margaret's Hope Darjeeling, which you must've noticed I really like. And before I packed my bag to go watch Germany play Argentina, I polished off a pot of Japan Sencha Fudji, which is certainly not the name I'd buy it under in Japan. Only for the German market. I need to find out what this Sencha is really called.

That's for another day. Hope you're enjoying the weekend wherever you are. As much as I like the sunny weather, part of me wishes I could be sitting with you Aussies through the long winter nights. Soon enough, right? Soon enough.

Torn up and undecided

This might be a day where I post twice, but then again it may not.

There's a little football match on today between England and my adopted home country. You'd probably assume I'd have an easier time choosing the team I want to win, but I'm honestly conflicted. Life in Germany is much more pleasant when the national side wins. That's a bit of an understatement, actually. People here have heart attacks while the national side plays. Literally. The first week I lived here, England beat Germany 5:1 (September 2001). I watched it with my Bavarian neighbour, and he really had to call paramedics. He was so upset, he had a small heart attack. Welcome to Germany, eh?

But...

It's still hard to root against the English team. I love the Premiere League. Love it. Am for Arsenal, and as a result, I despise ManU, Chelski and Liverpool. Hate them. You think hate is too strong a word? You clearly don't understand what's at stake here.

My amigo Nigel has taught me more about football than I thought I could ever retain. He and I love it when England win. And there's no question at all who Nigel's supporting today.

But I'm still on the fence. I think the German team has a better shot of winning more matches and could even win the whole thing (if not this year, then in Brazil in 2014). I'm afraid if England beats their arch nemesis today, that'll be it for them. Somehow beating Germany in a World Cup is about as good as it can get for an English fan. What's to top that? The whole cup?

Don't know if this English side really has that in them.

We'll see.

I'll write about tea later. I'm having a hard time thinking of tea. I am drinking Margaret's Hope Darjeeling, and enjoying it immensely. Second infusion is really tastier than the first. Can't believe that I can steep the same bag of black tea more than once. What a world.

You might think of me if you happen to be watching Germany v England later. I'm the one torn between two loves. Very undecided.

Margaret's Hope? Brew it again.

Ordered a Darjeeling a few weeks ago, and it finally arrived earlier in the week. Did a brief search about the plantation where it's grown and decided to write a bit about what I found.

The plantation owner had two daughters. One of them, Margaret, loved it there so much and hoped to one day return. Sadly, she died and the plantation owner was understandably devastated. To honour her, he named the plantation and the tea that was grown there after her and her dreams of returning to their land. To this day, Margaret's Hope tea is associated with high quality tea from Darjeeling.

The shipment I got is a second flush, which means it's from the crop of tea that's picked and processed around June each year (before the rainy season). Normally, second flush Darjeelings are stronger and have much more body. Only because I started getting a little obsessive about Darjeeling earlier this year, was I able to appreciate the delicate flavours of a first flush. Until then, I was only able to get excited about tea from this region from the second flush category. Like this one.

I've mentioned here on a few occasions that there's far more Darjeeling sold on the global market than they could ever actually produce. As a result of that fact, every single time I try a new tea that's supposedly from here, the cynic in me wonders if this one was really grown somewhere else entirely.

One site I was reading mentioned a second infusion of Margaret's Hope. I do multiple infusions with green, white and Oolong tea, but have not had good experience with brewing black tea multiple times. I'd given up even trying. But that was until now. I brewed this tea again, and it was better the second time. Much better.

As I've already said, it's a strong and tasty choice. The floral taste you get in many first flushes only shows up the second time around with this tea. But that flowery taste is unmistakable. Just in case you're still feeling out different black teas: if you like really strong Assams, then normally a tea from Darjeeling will disappoint you. This might be a great place for you to start.

I could write about Darjeeling everyday and never run out of something to talk about. Whether you'd bother continuing to read about it is an entirely different question.