Who would put milk in their Darjeeling tea?

There was a lively discussion this morning about polluting Darjeeling tea with milk. Robert Godden (you might know him as The_Devotea over on twitter) mentioned in passing that his wife insisted on drinking her Darjeeling with milk and sugar. It's Australia. They don't necessarily stand on convention in the distant reaches of civilisation.

For a few brief moments we had a Beasts of Brewdom situation. Almost immediately after the offhand remark about milk and sugar in Darjeeling, there was shock and dismay coming from up in Portland, Oregon. Lazy Literatus, who's also known by his given name Geoff Norman, could be heard spitting up his tea upon hearing how the Darjeeling was being mishandled.

Well at this point, another Australian (Verity Fisher also known as @joiedetea) quietly admitted that she'd uncharacteristically added milk to her Darjeeling that morning because she'd over-steeped her tea and the milk cut down on the bitterness. I was worried Geoff might have an aneurism at this point. She assured him that it wouldn't happen again, but I'm not entirely sure he believed her. Only time will tell.

I have an Irish friend who's been ordering Darjeeling in bulk for decades from the Tee Kampagne, and he's been putting milk in his tea since he was small. Or smaller. He wouldn't give a damn what these tea obsessives on twitter thought about how he took his tea. He doesn't idealise this high mountain delicacy like we do. It's simply another black tea for him. Simple.

So what about you? Are you more like Geoff, whose precarious health status seems to have recovered from the original shock, or me even? Would you sooner pour used motor oil in your Darjeeling than destroy it with moo juice?

Or are you a bit of a Philistine on the whole 'milk in my Darjeeling' debate? It's just tea, after all.

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.

a Tea Manifesto

Since the madness in and near Oslo occurred last week, it’s been hard to avoid details of the meticulous organisation of the murderer. We’ve even been shown his manifesto that he released explaining his reasons as well as his regimen of precautions and planning. My first thought was, ‘Wait, does everybody have a manifesto? Is this some sort of requirement of living in modern society?’

So I’ve been trying to devise my Tea Manifesto, and I need a little help. Truly. There’s the obvious stuff about loose-leaf tea rather than bagged. And the whole idea of not selling tea as Darjeeling if it wasn’t, in fact, grown in Darjeeling. Those are pretty straight forward. And at least fellow tea obsessives will in all likelihood be on board with such things. But what else? What else belongs in a Tea Manifesto?

Here’s the problem I found as I tried to come up with a list of platitudes and guidelines: it doesn’t seem like it’ll be easy for me to get terribly rigid about my beliefs here. Something about all this tea drinking that necessitates that I be a bit forgiving if someone doesn’t do things exactly as I expect or demand.

Maybe if it were a Whiskey Manifesto, I could get blustery and radical. And after a pot of coffee, I could imagine my heart-rate boiling and my thoughts turning to a bit of revolution fomenting. But here I’ve just finished a nice day of reading and walking in the park and then more reading. It was all fuelled by pot after pot of delicious tea.

First a bit of Assam Mangalam, then onto some Ceylon Nuwara. After being outside, I turned to a bit of first flush Snowview Darjeeling. It was so good, I infused it once more. There’s another possibility for my manifesto…don’t throw away leaves that’ve only been used once. Some tea really is excellent he second time around.

What do you think? What belongs in my Tea Manifesto? Need your help with this. Desperately. Unfortunately, I’m just a bit too measured in my rabble rousing.

guest blogposts

Over the next several weeks I'm going to have a few guest blogposts. I tried this last year with someone I successfully lured over to the leaf-side, and we'll hear from her and how her tea tastes have changed over time.

That should be interesting. I think you'll agree.

There're also a few other people in the tea world I'd like to talk to and possibly interview here. There are German tea experts whose sites/teablogs I'm reading that have some ideas worth discussing. Maybe a different perspective than what you might get in your corner of the tea community.

So, you've been warned. If you come here and there's a voice/author you didn't expect to find here, it's an attempt to spice things up a bit. Enjoy.

charms of The Iron Goddess (Tie Guan Yin)

For regular readers of my teablog, I'll have to apologise at the outset. Normally I write about anything but tea. Sure I drag tea into it, but the topics I like most are tangentially related to that hot brown liqueur. I like to write about whatever film I happen to be watching or what I might serve footballers playing in the World Cup Final based upon the quality of each individual's play. You get the idea.

It's a teablog, but I rarely get bogged down in actually reviewing tea. Not in the traditional sense anyway. Robert (@The_Devotea on twitter) has assured me that there's nothing more boring than, 'I took the tea and I submerged it in the water and then I tasted it and it tasted like ______ and then I infused it again...' It might be informative and clearly written, but it's not the most exciting stuff. To each his own, eh?

But sometimes I feel I should just do a traditional review of a tea. It is still a teablog after all. And of course with the introduction I've built up, I'm almost daring myself to make it somehow more interesting than the typical teanote. I might have set myself up with unrealistic expectations in that case.

The tea I want to talk about is Tie Guan Yin (the notorious Iron Goddess). A while back I read someone disparaging comments about how everyone knows the sultry temptress that is the Iron Goddess.


As if this tea was somehow boring due to its popularity. I gave into her seduction when I visited Zhi Tea in Austin when I wrote An oasis on the Eastside.

Alex Zorach made a valid point, in the comments of that post, when he said, 'It seems to be the "default" named Oolong, so there have been a few cases where I tried it and it wasn't the best quality.' He went on to write that finding a good Tie Guan Yin is an entirely different story. I think I know just such an exception. The one I'm talking about is from Upton Tea Imports.

Now according to them, this is a 2nd Grade tea. Their description actually states:

A classic Tie-Guan-Yin, with dark-golden, rolled leaves, producing a flavorful cup with the aroma of sweet raisins complemented with robust earthy tones. The fine flavor lingers on the palate with a toasty, sweet aftertaste. (source: Upton Tea Imports).

I can definitely taste the raisins by the second or third infusion. Although the earthy tones are evident immediately, they somehow get stronger the more times I brew the same tea. In my estimation, that's the sign of a good, sturdy Oolong.




As I've heard so often when people talk about it, the thing to remember when brewing decent Oolong is to use more leaves and less water than you might be accustomed to. And almost as important are the incredibly short brewing times. Really.

Roughly twenty seconds to start. After many infusions, you might increase it to thirty or forty-five. But if you're truly using more leaves and less water, steeping this tea for a long time is only going to result in something bitter. And in my experience, Oolong isn't supposed to be bitter.

If you haven't before been lured in by the Iron Goddess charms, will this review convince you to try her out? No idea. I'd like to think this tea is a perfect introduction to Oolong in general. And might this specifically encourage you to try multiple steepings? That would please me more than you might know. Well, now you know. I just told you.

little Gaiwan's workload

* (the red dragon attempting to take my tea) *

How do you welcome a new teapot into your life? It's a ridiculous question, but I was thinking about the interview I might have with a piece of tea paraphernalia before taking it back to a very good home. Mine.

Many tea fanatics have excessive gear. Pots as well as cups and saucers and the list is rather endless...In order to call myself a tea obsessive, I'm not even sure what stuff I'm missing . I know my cupboard is light when it comes to this subject.

But I do have a growing collection, and typically I go for function rather than form. When I was first experimenting with Gong Fu brewing, I didn't even have a glass teapot, so I was using a large measuring beaker. Thought I'd written more extensively about that here, but maybe in a moment of wisdom, I destroyed the evidence.

Wrote about one of my favourite pieces of tea gear in shrinking my teapots. Still like the photo of that teapot from the dead of winter.

But without further ado, here's my relatively new little Gaiwan:



What would I ask the little guy if I wanted to let him know that a teapot's existence might be a bit overwhelming? Don't want to freak him out before he even gets accustomed to his new digs. But in the interest of full disclosure, it's probably best that I'm up front about the workload around here. At least for such a little Gaiwan.

Why wouldn't he be thrilled at the opportunity? What else is his purpose as a piece of tea paraphernalia? You know, that's the path to just taking your tea gear for granted.

the 'best tea'?

Was asked by a friend today what the 'best tea' was. What a question, eh? But I love a good debate. And blog comments. In case I've been unclear in the past, I really really like blog comments. So here's my not-so-humble answer. I wonder how the rest of you might respond.

Many teabloggers focus on green and/or Oolong tea, but as much as I like them, I've focused more on black tea. Most tea sellers in Germany make their own unique Ostfriesen Blend that is often a mix of strong, malty Assam and a Chinese Keemun (and maybe an Indian Nilgiri). If I had to choose my favourite non-single estate tea, it'd be one of those specialty blends.

But if it's brands we're talking about, the tastiest and most consistent tea I've found is 'Yorkshire Gold' made by Taylors of Harrogate. But that's only if we're talking about black tea blends.

I'd say the best non-green/Oolong tea, in my opinion, is still a single estate Darjeeling (to be truly accurate, most 'black' Darjeeling is really only 90% oxidised, so it's actually Oolong). I like stronger tea, so I enjoy second as well as first flush Darjeeling.

But the best brand? If you're buying from a seller that can tell you on which estate a Darjeeling was grown, then the likelihood is that it'll be better than something labeled simply as 'Darjeeling'. The estimation is that 40,000 tonnes of Darjeeling are sold worldwide, while only 10,000 tonnes are grown. Logically, one isn't always entirely sure that purchased Darjeeling was actually grown there.

Again, I'm very grateful for the question. Clearly the answer you'll get is entirely objective. I like thinking about how to make loose-leaf tea drinking more attractive. If I were a tea snob, it'd be the worst way of going about the whole thing.

What about you other tea obsessives? When someone asks you what the 'best tea' is, what might you say? I know on the face of it, it's an impossible question. But please jump in and claim your stake on this issue.

Did I mention that blog comments are encouraged?