be careful typing 'tea' into a web search

That the American Revolution began with the symbolic rejection of tea in Boston Harbor, in other words, makes perfect sense. Real revolutionaries would naturally prefer coffee. By contrast, the freedom fighters of Canada, a hundred years later, were most definitely tea drinkers. And where was Canada's autonomy won? Not on the blood-soaked fields of Lexington and Concord but in the genteel drawing rooms of Westminster, over a nice cup of Darjeeling and small, triangular cucumber sandwiches.

from Java Man by Malcolm Gladwell

There's much more in this essay that I want to talk about, but this seemed like the easiest place to start. In addition to writing of different teas I like and their origins, I've talked about religion and sex in relation to tea. I did this partly because I knew it'd attract readers, but also because the topics really interested me.

Something I've purposely avoided thus far, though, is politics. Not that I don't have opinions regarding politics, but I just thought it had no place here. It is a bit frustrating that most searches with even the mention of tea will send you to tea parties and all the politics that I'm veering away from talking about.

I'm sure I'll mine this Gladwell essay for much more material. It's a treasure trove of ideas not just about caffeine but about the difference between tea and coffee. So many people writing about tea want to fight this image of it being a drink for emasculated intellectuals. I've written about the stereotypes of tea drinkers, and been surprised that not many people came to our defense.

So I'm opening it up to debate here again. Would coffee really attract true revolutionaries? Is tea truly better paired with quiet drawing rooms and hushed conversation?

What was missing from my day

One of the only reasons travel is possible in my life is that my dogs have a fantastic dog sitter. Anytime I'm either too busy with work or play, I can take Ella and Louis to their second home where they visit their Black Lab friend Joanna. Except in the very rare instance that the sitter is on holiday.

Was invited to a wedding in the Bavarian countryside today and because the dog sitter is on one of her very rare trips, I had to juggle both things (the dogs and the wedding). What was neglected? Tea.

My day is normally accompanied by rather constant tea drinking. I did have a pot at breakfast, but in a rush, and after taking the dogs for a good run, rushed out the door to be late but not too late.

The wedding reception was a fantastic meal prepared with food grown there in the region. One course after another of delicious combinations of fish and fruit (what normally would never go together), as well as tender meat from what the Germans like to call 'happy' pigs. I'm sure this is a sort of marketing to assure people that these animals weren't fattened in cramped pens. Nevertheless, when I think of 'happy' pigs, I imagine the farmers interviewing their charges to make sure they're truly content with their existence.

But back to the point. It was a fantastic meal and the conversation was interesting, but there was something missing. Sure there was coffee and cake (you can't have an afternoon gathering in Germany without coffee and cake), but my body was screaming out for tea.

Upon returning home, I took the dogs out and immediately brewed a pot of the darkest, strongest Assam I could. Am sure I would've enjoyed a nice delicate Darjeeling or even a grassy green tea, but to break my tea-fast, I wanted something with a little kick.

Twas perfect.

By mid-evening, I'd blazed through two pots of tea and started to feel balanced again. Am sure I'll be up in the night at some point to give some of this liquid back, but honestly it was worth it. That warm, happy glow is all around me. I blame the tea.

tea people in *real* life

Gingko mentioned something in today's blogpost (Life in Teacup) about meeting people from online tea communities in *real* life, and I'm sitting here pondering if I'd even seriously consider doing that. One of the weirdest things about twitter is that I adore communication with those people there, but I really doubt I'd actually want to meet many of them. Some would even make me surprisingly uncomfortable.

But tea people are different, right?

The thought of dodging a pterodactyl while sipping on some tea with Robert (@The_Devotea) is rather delightful. And after having read an old essay at Leafbox Tea about not blathering on about which estate the tea came from and actually having a bit of intellectual discourse about something other than tea, I can't stop thinking about where the discussion might head while chatting with Jackie and Pete. Last summer I was in Paris for a few weeks, and Ice Hellion and I have talked about trying to arrange both going there at the same time someday, and maybe meeting at Mariage Freres or one of the limitless tea salons.

There are far too many people I've come into contact with to list all of them here, but it is an interesting prospect, isn't it? Maybe you've already met people face to face that you got to know first in virtual tea rooms. Maybe you'd never risk it.

So here I am inviting your comments. Would you be interested in meeting some of the tea people you only know online face to face? If you're hesitating, what's holding you back?

tea conversion the other direction

Just read something on Alex Zorach's Tea Blog that got me thinking. It was about convincing coffee shops to sell loose-leaf tea. I've written about converting non-tea drinkers to tea, but never thought about this sort of conversion.

Although in Germany the northerners are far more associated with tea, you can find coffee shops that sell loose-leaf tea here in southern Germany. Not many, but they do exist.

Often the wifi is a bigger consideration than whether they have decent tea, but that depends entirely on whether I'm there to get some work done or primarily for the tea.

What I've never considered doing is explaining to a coffee shop owner the potential benefits of branching into tea. Often when I ask about tea in a coffee shop or restaurant, they assure me they have it. Then they point at the cheapest supermarket tea bags that sell for little more than a euro per box. I just can't accept paying a few euros for the miserable cup of tea that comes from one of those bags. Horrid taste+exorbitant price=miserable experience.

But the oasis that would be loose-leaf tea in the exact same situation is worth contemplating.

Thanks Alex (you can see a link to his blog in the 'blogs you might consider' section in the right hand column here).

tea tasting out of retirement

There was an article in one of the Sunday papers today about a tea taster. What he said and what was said about him was not terribly intriguing, but it still got me thinking.

What an interesting job.

Slurping, tasting, spitting...and repeat. One thing he said that got me thinking. He was already retired from some unnamed career, when he officially became a tea taster. What a thought, eh?

Enjoying his golden years, and what brings him back to the work force (if you can call tea tasters part of the work force)? He's got an above-average penchant for distinguishing good from mediocre tea. So, he gets to make his hobby into a dream job.

I'll leave you with this happy ending for a change. Tea tasting into eternity.

'Blackbird singing in the dead of night...'

There's a Ceylon that doesn't seem to be named after an estate. Instead, from what I can surmise, they gave it the name of a bird. It's called Ceylon Blackbird, and although it's not the highest quality tea I've ever tried, it's a nice change from the Assams and Darjeelings I normally drink and write about.

But as long as I'm taking about blackbirds, I'll go ahead and mention that this is also a Paul McCartney song that I like. Didn't realise until I looked it up that this was written in 1968 and is the songwriter's reaction to racial tensions in the US at the time.

I'm not normally drawn to Paul's songs, although I do think another one of his songs, For No One, is a masterpiece. But I was talking about Blackbird. Both the tea and the song.

There's something so alluring about the simplicity of this solo acoustic guitar and voice. Even without knowing what the song's background is, it's a beautiful melody and accompaniment. So here I am on a late summer's evening, sipping my Ceylon Blackbird with a bit of cream and listening to Sir Paul.

Can't think of anything more appropriate.

gateway Assam

Have written mostly about Oolong and Darjeeling lately, but I start most days with a strong Assam. Most of the time I like a really dark tannic tea first thing in the morning, but I can recommend one that isn't so tannic. It's called Assam Khongea.

It's malty, but not overly so. When someone tells me Assam is too strong for them, I let them try this one. Until now, I've only had excellent responses.

So if you normally don't go for strong teas but want to try something just a bit stiffer, here's your chance.