A POT OF KENYAN

It was Kenyan in the end. We have loose-leaf but for simplicity and speed, I carefully opened the foil bag that had been doubled over in the tea-caddy, and pinched a tea bag. Remarkable inventions, tea bags: thousands of holes, tiny perforations which let the water infuse the tea and the tea infuse the water. I held it to my nostrils and had a sniff.

A lot of branded tea is made from the Kenyan leaf. It's got a bright, perky kind of taste that sort of characterises the British cup - from the stuff builders dunk into their steaming mugs to the delicate Earl Grey of the Queen's own teapot. I decided it would be the best way to reintroduce myself after 47 days.

I filled the kettle and flicked it on, then reached up into the cupboard for my big green teacup. I gave it a rinse while the kettle was boiling. Then, I scanned the window sill for a teapot. I grew up with teapots - not in a Mowgli kind of way, you understand - I just mean I can always remember them. My Grandma had an earthenware one which looked like it had been blackened by the fire; in our kitchen, the teapots were always a bit more floral - white porcelain, usually with trailing roses and lavender leaves. We had Sunday afternoons with crumpets, Mr Kipling's french fancies and a pot of hot tea, which for some reason had its own knitted jumper - a 'tea cosy' if you will.

I selected the two-cup-teapot and took off the lid. They say you shouldn't wash a teapot - the stains of old tea improve the flavour. I'm not sure I can go along with that. It might taste delicious but I like making it to the end of the cup without drinking mould and keeling over. I rinsed out the pot with cold water first and waited for the kettle to boil.

The debate that won't go away of course, is whether the milk goes in before the tea or after it. I'm not getting into that again - at least not without a pair of boxing gloves. With a pot of tea, we've always put the milk in the cup first, to stop it getting stained with tea and to ensure that the milk diffuses through the brew. I fetched the milk from the fridge and waited.

Eventually the kettle bubbled with steam and clicked itself off. I warmed the pot, rinsing round a little boiling water and then flicked on the switch again for a moment. I dropped the tea bag neatly into the middle of the pot and then filled it to the top with boiling water. On went the lid. I left the teapot on a pot stand for a moment while I splashed the milk into the cup.

After a few minutes, I swished the teapot round and then poured it in one fluid motion, into the big green cup. I love the sound it makes, sort of happily bubbling and gurgling, swirling the milk into an ever stronger, deeper colour.

The Intrepids were out and had left Classic FM on again, so I switched it off and sat drinking Kenyan tea and listening to the birds chirping in the garden.