Lesson Learned; Always Make a Tea

The title of my blog refers to my rage filled and sad post from yesterday, and the subsequent explosion at the poor man who came to my door yesterday.

Always make a tea. Always. Even in this climate soaked with wonky weather, you can still make a tea, even if its below or above 50 degrees; hot weather is perfect for ice tea. Right now I'm waiting on a real beauty sitting in my kitchen, happily steeping away as I count down the seconds... woop, tea's done!

Mmmmhhh, ahhhhh, sweet Poseidon, that's good. I'm sipping a rich dark concoction I'd like to call the home-made chocolate chai. If I was lucky, I'd have whip cream and caramel sauce in my fridge, and then I could make one of my trade mark tea lattes, the Karamel Sutra. But in a pinch, this is just as lovely, but sadly less sinful. This drink is prepared with more wholesome ingredients then the sugar syrups I'd need to make the latte, which is good, because consuming too much sugar turns me into an unholy spaz.

But I digress.

Raw cocoa powder is blended with Splenda (because I'm too poor to afford stevia), cinnamon and cayenne pepper, into a kind of hot chocolate powder. I took a teaspoon to the bottom of the cup while the kettle was grumbling and chugging along, and added two teaspoons of thick, rich, heavy cream to make an ooey-gooey chocolaty paste. A tiny tea cup sized strainer filled with fragrant chai was balanced on the rim, and finally, when the kettle gave its first few puffs of steam and tiny hoots, I filled half the cup through the strainer, stirred the chocolate paste until it melted, then filled the cup the rest of the way. Walked over to computer to start my post. Ran back like a little girl to collect my delicious tea when three minutes had passedé

My favourite part was adding more cream and Splenda to it; I love the way cream sinks through liquid, like a bolt of velvet tumbling down a staircase. That, and the way Splenda froths and bubbles on the surface when its dumped in. Likely, it is releasing brain interrupting neuron severing poisons, with racism and pedophilia, or what ever else the world blames on Splenda. Well, I may develop stomach cancer, but I'll do it with a few extra coins in my pocket. Maybe before all the other awful things I do kill me.

Though a good, thick, chocolate base is important to enjoying a chocolate chai...

(How does my own mind wander when I'm the one who's writing!? Mental note; make more of this drink in the summer. Cool it in the fridge, cut with Baileys. Invite all your friends over and get shnockered on the front deck. With big floppy sunhats and tiny sandwiches made of cream cheese and cucumbers.)

... ahem, as I was saying. The important thing about enjoying a good chocolate chai, or any chai at that matter, is making sure it is, in fact, a good chai. For god's sake, put down the Liptons. Not that I'm at constant war with the tea bagging companies, not at all. I understand that's all I can get at some times, if you're slogging along to work or class, running errands, at a poorly stocked friend's house, etc. You're not going to throw a bowl of Kraft Dinner at the wall because the diner doesn't have real Italian cuisine. None the less, unless you are a deranged individual with poor taste, you are not going to reach for the KD every time you want pasta. Not when you can go to a local grocer and buy fresh noodles, sharp cheeses, real butter...

Nope, no good. Now I just want KD.

Anyways, treat yourself now and then to a loose leaf cup of chai, if you can. Hedonism is to be appreciated in all of its forms, and you must remember to take care of yourself by indulging frequently and often. Because trust me, very few other people will remember to spoil you as often as they should.

Moving on.

A good chai is easily recognizable. Any chai worth its salt is made with a good, strong Assam base, preferably CTC. Except no lesser if you have set out to treat yourself. Don't worry about strength, but do worry about astringency; the only tastes you want to linger are spices.

Ah, the spices, the real treat of a chai. These additions are many and varied, depending on where you go. Winner of the best chai I've had yet goes to maison du thé CHA YI, in Hull, just outside of the city of Ottawa. Why? Because, dear readers, they make this chai in house. Meaning all those spices are freshly ground, stirred in and packaged on location, just waiting to creep across your waiting tongue to curl up in your belly, warming you inside and out. These spices are more then just tasty though; they work really hard for your body. A standard chai blend can have anything from cinnamon, clove, cardamon, ginger, anise seed, black pepper, etc. All of these herbs are good for sore throats, upset tummies, blood pressure, cholesterol, upper respiratory issues, so forth. Add a heaping amount of heavy cream (or soy for you vegans), and what ever body destroying sweetener if your choosing.

I get a lot of comments on the "proper" way of drinking chai. Some claim you need to simmer it for hours in water and cream, or condensed milk; I had one East Indian gentleman swear by. One woman, looking for a suitable Assam base for her own blend, pursed her lips condescendingly when I suggested a myriad of spices I liked in my chai beyond what "belongs", according to her experience. As always, my best is advice is that the right tea is the one that tastes the best. If you like condensed milk in your chai, or nothing at all, or even hot chocolate powder, then that's the proper way to drink chai. Don't worry yourself so much about "not supposed to", or the "real" way. Just enjoy it; life's too short to stress out about the way to drink a tea.