Tea is a wildly divisive beverage. The reason, of course is that it is very, very, differentiated. Which, of course, makes it easy to be a tea snob. These people are worse, much worse than coffee snobs. (Beer snobs generally tend to be ok people, mostly on account of the snobbery being thoroughly defenestrated by the fifth pint. Wine snobs, ah, wine snobs deserve to be beaten to within an inch of their sorry lives, revived with a mouthful of Franzia, patched and Band-Aid-ed up and then beaten again. Rinse and repeat. These sods come up with expressions like "the slight hint of a smoky flavour as you might imagine emanating from the ruins of Atlanta after Willie Sherman was done tearing the Confederacy a new one". I tell you, Purgatory ain't good enough for wine snobs)
Anyhoo, back to tea. Where does it grow? India, China and Sri Lanka. Some other places. They don't matter. Tea can be black, green and sometimes a few other things. I don't claim to understand green tea. I have drunk it. Contrary to expectations, it did not confer any special powers like GrandMaster level Karate skills. There was some flavour, but I'll be damned if I can remember what it was. So much for green tea. As for the other, lesser types, if you like them, you might as well save yourself some trouble and make a random infusion from your potpourri bowl, or perhaps, cuttings from your hedge and spice it up with hair from the neighbour's dog. I have nothing more to say to you. Go, drive your crossover to Whole-Joe's and buy some Kashi.
Soo, black tea. This can be drunk without milk. The only permitted additives are honey and a dash of lemon. Tea prepared thus should be drunk out of dainty bone-china cups. Said cups should be engraved with the family escutcheon. Heraldry might be involved. A plate of delicious crumpets and hideous digestive biscuits may make an appearance. Cucumber sandwiches might also be in evidence. Btw, for my American audience, what you call a "cookie" is a "biscuit". What you call a "biscuit" has no reason to exist. In fact, country buffets(the usual home for your "biscuits") have no reason to exist. Such tea should be served by wimmenfolk protected from the pitiless sun in the subcontinent by parasols. After tea, there will be another innings to play, so one should not overindulge, especially if one is next down to bat.
Yes, it is possible to make a whole religion out of tea drinking. It shapes the national character; was probably drunk during Trafalgar and Jutland. But what exactly was drunk? Was it the finest first pickings from the best Darjeeling Makaibari estates? Or was it a large-leaf Assam? See, here lies the rub. The tonnage of Darjeeling sold outside India every year exceeds the actual tonnage of Darjeeling produced. So much for authenticity. This is a product as heavily counterfeited as, say, olive oil (counterfeiting which, you may not be aware is so profitable, that the Cosa Nostra has gotten into it. In fact, has been involved for generations.) And that is why most tea snobs are blowing smoke out of their collective arse. But what, then, is an honest bloke supposed to do?
Well, you might drink chai. You start our with a pedestrian blend of teas. We, well, actually the paterfamilias potters down to the neighbourhood tea store. A good fifteen minutes of polite enquiries about everyone's health is exchanged. There might be some banter about the latest from Writers's Building (that would be the State Govt.) and views might be exchanged about the national cricket team. Then the shop owner bloke knocks the lid off a tiny hatch set into the side of these large-ish ply boxes. Each box comes from a different estate. Several such boxes might be tapped. Each yields up perhaps 200 gms of treasure. There will be commentary on flavour. A pot will prolly be brewed. Much wise head-nodding. And finally, a blend will emerge!
Finally, some of this blend wings its way across the wurlde to yours truly. And so we find ourselves with a saucepan of boiling water before us. Toss in a couple of cloves. Crushed, if possible. Is there any cardomom handy? Black cardomom? Shite, you must be rich! Well, strip it, toss in the seeds. Crush and toss in the shell as well. Powdered cinnamon? Yes, please. It also helps to have dried ginger flakes ziplocked away. Throw in some. And then, wait for this, a tiny, and I mean tiny, pinch of red pepper. Is it still boiling? Is the aroma beginning to acquire a whole personality? Alright then, time to add sugar. Wait half a minute, in goes the tea. Let it boil for another minute. When the whole concoction decides to Vesuvius out of the saucepan and into your life, calm it down with cold milk. Obviously, the amount of tea and milk is left entirely to taste. This takes a while to optimize. Now here comes the crucial part. Do not let the milk boil. Remove the saucepan before it comes to boil. Strain and serve.
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