Time for tea

Any grey and miserable day that doesn't start with a cup of tea and bowl of porridge (with brown sugar and sultanas) is a grey and miserable day indeed. But my day did start with them, so I'm as happy as if it were a bright sunny day. But there is a cloud on the cheering breakfast horizon.

I like tea. I first learnt to like it a couple of years ago, when I realised how anti-social it was to like neither tea nor coffee. Not needing the caffeine of coffee, and knowing too many coffee snobs, I thought it would be easier to like tea. I try not to be a tea snob. I set the rule that if I was learning to drink tea simply to be social, it would be unwise to then only drink tea that's picked on the fourth day of the fifth year in the third cycle of the twentieth emperor. So I'll generally drink any tea that's put in front of me. My only rule is that it must have milk. It's a texture thing. Apparently this breaks all the rules of some teas, but I don't care. It feels funny in my mouth without milk.

This doesn't mean I don't appreciate a good cup of tea. I've learnt from a young age that the best tea is made from loose leaf in a pre-warmed pot. The water should be fresh and boiling (unless it's green tea, then it should be just before the boil). I like different kinds of teas, from fancy tea boutique ones like monk pear to bog standard ones like Dilmah. But my all time favourite is causing me some pain at the moment.

We have a lovely collection of Twinings tea tins, ranging from 'serving tea for 250 years' to '275 years'. Some are in ounces, some in grams. Some have some rust on the top, some still have their price tags (IGA $2.75). Not all are full, some have teabags, but most have the matching loose leaf tea. We have English Breakfast, Irish Breakfast, Prince of Wales, just to name a few. Now, I'll admit they all taste fairly similar, but then we also have Russian Caravan (yum, but without it's own tin) with it's hint of smoke, and Earl Grey with the flowery after scent.

You see the maroony tin, 'Lapsang Souchong'? This tin is empty. It's terribly sad. The air inside carries the fabulous smoky scent of this tea, but the contents are long gone. In loose leaf form, Twinings Lapsang Souchong is no longer available in Australia. I emailed them, and was told there isn't enough demand. That's not true. There's me. There's my mum. There's a friend of mine. If I shout loud enough, will that count? And so, it is with regret that I choose my preferred morning tea. My eyes slide past the maroon tin, not dwelling on it, and on to other choices. I drink my English Breakfast happily, enjoying what it has to offer, but missing the afterbreath of smokiness only Lapsang Souchong can provide.

But as I say, I'm not a fussy tea drinker. Give me a cup as strong as a weightlifter, or as weak as a Twilight plot, half milk or with just a drop. I'll drink it, enjoy it, but most of all I'll drink it with my friends, in cheerful company. And that is worth far more than how it tastes.