Today I was presented with an unwrapped Teavana tea bag and a cup of nearly hot water. Now I'm no tea-snob but I at least liked it when they pretended they'd put the tea bag in first.
It's not just a classic case of paying to make your own cup of tea - it's paying to make your own cup of tea in a way that you wouldn't dream of at home and won't enjoy, in a kind of cold, wooden waiting room with a bombastic soundtrack and the hacking coughs and sneezes of the general public.
Anyway, I'm supposed to be winding down, not getting wound up. At least I don't have to wash up the cup.
I mean I like my tea in a pot, with an optional biscuit and a little milk jug. I like pouring it out at just the right moment and seeing that gorgeous golden nectar cascading out of the spout and playfully splashing into the cup.
I like the aroma of Darjeeling or jasmine or orange pekoe floating up like scented candles, and I like that first delicate sip that slips down so mellifluously and beautifully, until every part of me is warmed and enchanted by the flavour and the blend.
Okay, maybe I am a tea-snob.
No comments:
Post a Comment