Too Hot To Handle

I never liked green tea.

It's true, I didn't. And if truth be told again, I'm still not that fond of it. Too many bad memories of ugly tasting teas, I think. It didn't matter the grade or the type of green, all of it tasted like sudsy bitter ick. I looked all over the place for a good green, and delighted in finding new combinations of berries and flavours; vanilla blueberry pomegranate peach cinnamon maple green apple mandarin orange. My eyes used to flit over the displays of Liptons and Tetley's, looking for something, anything to banish the last awful cup from my mind.

Then, much later, I learned the real secret to good green tea, and I was transported. But not till much later, I'm afraid. Even though my boyfriend would happily slurp back his morning cup of pomegranate green, and I would sadly push around the bag with my little spoon thinking, "At least its hot".

But I digress.

But the point of this is to show to readers that green tea can be delicious as well as healthy, it can be sweet, subtle, flavourful, herbal, and hearty tasty, without anything but itself. You don't even need to pay an arm and a leg for tender leaves picked by vestal virgins while scaling a cliff thousands and thousands above the sea in the light of the moon.

If such a tea exists, I would pay any price for it. Moving on.

Green tea is one of the only teas I know of that is entirely dependant on amount brewed, time brewed, and most importantly (aka easiest to screw up) the heat of the water. I would also throw white into this category, as well as high grade oolongs, but that's just my opinion. Don't bother to follow these directions if you still insist on hauling out the Liptons; teabaggin' it is still teabaggin' it, no matter what you do.

First, remember that with all tea of the camellia plant, remember its generally one teaspoon for one cup of hot water. And I don't mean drag out your silverware and your mugs, I mean take out your baking tools and measure roughly 5mL of tea and 8oz or 250mL of hot water. While you're doing this, put your kettle on to boil. Now, I know you're already biting at your lip; boil you say? Certainly, I have to get started on my heat sensing psycho-kinetic powers to determine when to yank the kettle off at exactly the right temperature before it gets too hot, right? Or, even more insane, spend a couple hundred dollars on a robot kettle who will boil the water to just the right temperature and then stop on time with the help of their space-time thermometers?

If I ever spend that much on a kettle, it better be able to pleasure me sexually and do my taxes, too.

So how do you do it? Because I do advise you, trying to dump boiling hot water on a good grade of green tea in hopes of enjoying it is reminiscent of licking the Mona Lisa to really experience its mastery. Freshly boiled water will scorch the tea leaves, giving it that trademark bitter sting. Some fanatics even claim you are boiling away the antioxidants, but I'm not sure how much I believe that. Wrecking my tea is sacrilegious enough. Fear not, gentle readers, you don't need to suffer that horrible fate any longer. Just make sure you let the kettle sit for five minutes, open, after it has come to a boil, off of any heat. Presto, your water has just climbed down from 100 degrees to the safe comfy cozy heat of 80 degrees.

Pour your cooled water over the leaves, and let it sit for no more then three minutes. Remove your leaves, settle back, and sip. Isn't that better? Of course it is, but don't thank me. Oh, alright, go on then. You're welcome.

And remember! Even crummy grades of green tea (notice I said crummy, not trash, Liptons) have at least two or three steepings to it. The better the tea, the better and more of those steepings! Invest extra cash in your green tea habit, get more bang for your buck. If it's one thing I believe in, it's banging as hard as I can for every buck. That, and good tea. Enjoy!

Take It How You Like It

My post today is in regards to the almost fearful approach some people have to taking their tea. The proper way to drink an Earl Grey, the right way to drink a Chai tea. Well, I say thee nay! If I was interested in doing everything right and proper, I wouldn't be writing a blog about tea and hedonism. Or, considering doing body shots of iced tea and vodka off of a stripper.

But I digress.

First time teetotalers are always nervous, I find. They walk into the store of loose leaf teas, all wide eyed and gawky looking, like deer wandering into a suburban area. They may talk softly, or stutter a bit, or talk too loudly, to puff themselves up. But I can read nerves in any language the body throws at me. Questions spill out of them as their fingers fiddle with coats and purse straps, skitter down the bright enamel of porcelain or the mesh surfaces of tea balls. How much do I put in? What should I heat the water to? Do I need a timer? Then how long should it sit?

I try to be as gentle with them as possible, as not to scare them away from the wonderful, delicious world of tea (also, to not lose my sale; at the center of my voluptuous core beats the iron cold heart of a business woman). The second thing I'd take care not to do is overload them with information. "What the hell is matcha, anyways?" has various answers, depending on how skittish the person is; either "Powdered green tea from Japan" or "A special variety of green tea which is babied during its growing process to become sweeter with higher antioxidants, hand picked and sorted, then ground to a powder to be whisked together with hot water to make a special kind of  tea, central to the tea ceremonies hosts and guests would preform in ancient Japan."

Saying all that in one breath takes practice. Moving along.

But the question that scrapes along my nerves is "What do I put in it?" All careful and soft answers flee, and my eyes pop open, with out fail. "What ever you want!", I inevitably shout, throwing my arms up in the air, "If it's tasty, do it!"

Cue the gasps of many die hard tea enthusiasts. But it's true, though... why would you deny someone the right to enjoy their delicious hot health beverage the way they want it? You want to put milk in your white tea? Have at it! You want maple syrup in your green pomegranate? Agave in your Chai? Soy in your rooibus? Go for it!

Booze in your Ceylon? Make me a cup while you're at it!

I only have a few qualms when it comes to dressing your teas, and that's when it comes to the quality of the brew. Lets be honest; you wouldn't take a $200 red wine vintage, throw in some fruit and a carton of Tropicana, then shout "Sangria everyone!" I shudder at the thought. Such a wine deserves to be drank at the right temperature, with the right cheeses and meats to bring all the flavours to tremble at the tip of your tongue, before slinking through you to warm the base of your soul. Any less treatment deserves a bitch slappin'.

The same applies to certain vintages of teas. My favourite oolong in the world is Tie Kuan Yin, for two reasons. One, it tastes like magic; sweet lilac flavours, soft fermented aromas, and the leaves just unfurl into tender nests, begging for infusion after infusion. Also, because Tie Kuan Yin translates to Iron Goddess of Mercy... and how freaking cool is that? Tie Kuan Yin sold for $40 for 50g, I think, at our store. Likely, our grade wasn't even the best, and you can pay even more for this lovely tea.

I once had a customer request Tie Kuan Yin. Iced. With a squirt of green apple syrup. I almost wept preparing it. Sometimes, I lay awake at night, tossing and turning. Why didn't I stop them from ordering it? Why did I cover my hands in that shame when I made it? How could I do that to tea? HOW?!

But afterwards, I relax and make a cup of tea, then get on with my day. It's not all bad, anyways, not when the kettle's on.

The Importance of Herbal Teas

Just to set the record straight, the only thing I am against in the tea world are nasty, dusty little tea bags with no flavour or health benefits. And even there, I will stoop to drink it if nothing else hot and delicious is available. But grudgingly, oh yes, with great grudges.

However, plenty of people seem to think there is some sort of war between herbal teas (or tisanes), and "real" tea. Well, I'm here today to declare a halt on any such war, and to tell people to put down their tea spoons. Both teas have a rich and celebrated history, both are here to stay, and both have their values.

Some people claim that you can't enjoy a good tea unless its by itself, unfettered and brewed perfectly. I say it's one way to enjoy a good tea. I'm working on a few of my own blends right now, and I've had the audacity of blending together both green and black with herbs aplenty. Depending on your needs, each herbal blend can be  as varied and different as they come. Different plants do different things for different people. Mint might not help a queasy stomach, but ginger could do the trick. Then you found cardamom and never looked back.

But I digress.

My tirade on herbs are those that wish to take advantage of the masses, I suppose; which makes them similar to traditional drug companies then they are more comfortable admitting. Relying on the placebo effect to sell your herbs/medication is only the rankest of unethical business decisions. If your company has failed to collect potent herbs due to their shipping, harvesting, climate, etc., then do not pass it off as a miracle cure. Do not make a tea that is 98% dust and 2% echinacea, and call it the "Super Immune Booster". You are only making the public distrust homeopathic medicine less and less.

Also, to the homeopathic haters; stop being so damned snarky. I once had a man jab a finger in my face, demanding to see the paperwork and proof that I must have been hiding under my hippy skirts to show that my herbal tinctures could aid with "coughing and sore throats". Why do people insist I'm a doctor? I'm minus the degree and the cool stethoscope, if I'm not mistaken. If somebody wants to do their research and try their hand at a new remedy in order to ease an illness or improve their life, who are you to condescend? I am never afraid to meet these people toe to toe, and I love the smell of defeat and chamomile in the morning.

On the other hand, there are those who are too far on the other end of the scale; I'm sorry you have diabetes, cancer, gout, etc., but you really ought to see a doctor for that. No, I have no idea if these will interact with your medications, you really ought to see a doctor for that. No, just... no. The doctor is so not in, ever.

Would I have an herb for stupidity. I need another cup of orange pekoe to cheer me up.

Drowning in Sunshine

I missed you yesterday (and the day before), blog. I was busy outside, walking in the sun, eating picnics, and amassing myself an evil sunburn on my breasts. Ugh, did I ever feel like crap waking up this morning; like I had been burnt from the inside out. No Monday morning jog for me today. Just cold water and poking at the computer with blurry eyes.

But that hasn't kept me from going back out today, no sir. I mean, it almost did. I became very anxious and upset about going back out, but I made it. Let me tell you, blogging in the great outdoors isn't very comfortable. I've been wiggling around in a very tiny sundress trying to find a comfortable position to type, and I probably look like I'm recording an outdoor porn on my webcam.

Sit up, lie down, scooch the dress around, repeat. But I digress.

My post today is about the mother of all summer drinks, iced tea. The only way to truly appreciate ahy summer brew is to ice it well, with plenty of ice and sugar (or, still, Splenda in my case ). Honestly, the second you ice anything, it can be delectable, with perhaps the exception of Tary Lapsang Souchong, a Chinese smoked black tea. Fruits, herbs, spices, rooibus, black, green, white; all of it can be madeu harmonious with deliciousness when you ice it. Hell, even coffee runs to great leaps and bounds of flavor when you bother to ice it (an it offers a hell of a kick when you do, with oddly less stomach ripping cramps for me).

The second best part of iced tea is that even a simpleton can make it; I can't believe how many times I've had to explain it, but really, the recipe is akin to a first grade science project. Brew tea, double strength, pour over ice, top up with cold water, stir. Don't be silly and try to melt honey with ice water (we've all tried once, and felt very silly after). Boom, you're done. Now guzzle it back and enjoy the refreshing splash and slide of ice tea. Why do people even pay other people to do it? Did you know Nestea doesn't even have antioxidants in their drinks? I mean, it tastes worse and it's worse for you... and has about a gallon of sugar in it. Gag me; I'll just go around licking people on the street to quench my thirst, thanks.

And last, by not least, for why ice tea is superior (unrelated, I have fashioned a desk using my sneakers, purse and laptop case. Take THAT, life!) is the fact that you can cut it with something. Beggar yourselves no more with Starbucks Ice Tea Lemonade when you can make ice tea and... add lemonade!With black and rooibus, make a creamy treat by cutting it with milk, and booze? Hell yes! Make yourself mixed drinks of flavoured liquor and iced tea. It's like the drinks are healthy enough for you to demand the right to being a total lush this summer.

So there you have it, internet. Why your own ice tea will always rein supreme. Why aren't you making a pitcher right now? Do what I do; drag your laptop to the park, blog in the glory of the new summer, and flash a bunch of unsuspecting park goers (sorry kids).

Too Hung Over, Need More Tea.

Hey, just because I'm a teetotaler doesn't mean I don't enjoy my drinks like anyone else; last night was the first night I've got right piss-faced since the school year started.

But I digress.

I am far too hung over to try to pull a commentary about tea out of my poor achy butt, and I've decided to devote the day to watching Game of Thrones, and looking at funny pictures. Also, I have the wrong tea to set myself back up again; all that's in the house is an cheap herbal blend of ginger and lemon that's been gathering dust in the back of my tea cupboard (it's crowded in there). While the ginger has been great for my nausea and headache, and the lemon soothed my throat from all the screaming, its just not doing the trick for me, and I SUFFER.

(I didn't realize the caps lock was still on, but I'm leaving it. Drama be damned, I'm cranky and I'd kill a man for a Klondike bar right now. Or a grill cheese sandwich. Moving on.)

The tea you really want for a hangover (god damn it, I got sucked into posting) is a combination of three teas from different parts of the world, and feels like rocket fuel for human beings. You must steep 4 teaspoons of yerba mate (an herb related to the holly plant, commonly found in Brazil) for five minutes in 8oz of hot water. Meanwhile, get yourself good quality matcha powder (god help you if its poor quality, you might as well be licking up dust bunnies for nutrition, not to mention taste), and froth up one teaspoon into hot water with your trusty bamboo whisk (get one, matcha lovers, its worth it.)

Pour the two together, add a serving of your favourite, and I can not stress this enough, trusted ginseng tincture. Don't except a tincture blend, and my personal favourite is Panax Ginseng, for its crazy energy punch. Add what ever sugars, milks, flavours you want. You're done! Sip it back, and wait for the pain relief. Also, massive energy rush. In fifteen minutes, you would never know you had spent all night drinking. And running around downtown. Peeing in a bush. Falling over. Getting dirt on your fanciest knickers. Ugh, where is my magical hangover drink?

That's it, that's all I'm giving you today, monkeys. Run along now, Mommy has a headache.

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.  

My Mugs Need to get All Up in this Swag

http://knotworkshop.bigcartel.com/

This. This is what needs to happen to my mugs when I drink tea.

That, and about thirty others on this website. I particularly have my eyes on "the status is not quo" and "release the kraken". This is what tea needs to become all about. Not as a niche product, but as an equalizer. Something for all of us to enjoy, in whatever crude and silly fashions we choose. Not to be sipped from delicate bone china cups (even though there's nothing wrong with pretty little cups), pursing our lips and looking down on one other. Tea used to be everywhere, it used to be for everyone. Scholars, serfs, queens, kings, merchants... the course of our history was changed by the pursuit of tea. That was a long time ago... not necessarily a better time, just a time.

I see a culture changing, I see tea leaving the hands of the rich and making its way back into the peasants hands. As it should, as it will. Life is just a big clock after all; time for peace, time for war, time for rebellion, time for rebuilding. Tea time. And then tomorrow, all those times will have to come again. Just around, and around, and around....

Why am I drinking no tea while writing this blog? And as if to vex me further, a snarky salesmen knocks on the door as soon as those words fly from my fingers. Begone snarky salesmen! Sell me not your PVR and your fiber-optics internet! Bollocks!

Hoo, boy. Maybe I need that tea mug cozy more then I realized. I'll have to make do with kitty mug today, it would seem. I'm just completed enamored with the product, for the following reasons:
1. My tea gets cold too quickly; it forces me to heat up my water to the temperature of the Fires of Modor.

2. While my stomach and heart are those of a king, the skin on my hands are those of a woman; meaning, if I'm getting tea to go, its always double cupped and double sleeved.

3. In the "About Me", aptly named "Who Makes This Crap?", she has identified as a professional hooker. A woman after my own heart.

Anyways, its a cranky day, full of wind and spits of rain, drawn down with heavy grey clouds. No warm summer weather the soothsayers (ie. meteorologists) are predicting, making me feel cheated and chilly. Tea will always do great in lifting my spirits.

The kettle screams from the kitchen, a battered old metal war lord, rescued from a second hand store. Today, it sounds oddly triumphant. Adieu, my sweet sippers.