Loading ...This is an article for southerners. You yankees can bugger off with your hot drinks.
Its late summer, and on a hot afternoon there’s nothing better while you sit on the front porch with your hound-dog, shot gun across your lap, than a nice glass of iced tea. And lets admit, we drink it sweet. Really sweet.
Luzianne. Lipton. Tetley.
All the cheap horrors of the tea world, boiled black then heaped with sugar. Yum. You know you love it.
I discovered the joys of gourmet tea while living in England. I am NOT saying that the British are tea-connoisseurs by any stretch of the imagination. They’ve just duped the rest of the world into thinking they are. I don’t know how many times I’ve gone to someone’s house in England, to be served a watery, milk-splashed, tepid cup of the Somerfield’s generic brand of tea, along with a type of “biscuit” known in England as the “digestive”.
Alright you Americans, reach into the furthest fields of your imagination and conjur up the most horrible cookie-idea, something worthy of the name “digestive”. Have you got it fixed firmly in your mind? Believe me, you’re not even close. These crumbly, hard, flavourless planks of tightly-pressed cardboard adorn the shelf of every British household, and the British break them out for guests with a kind of vicious glee. “Digestive?”, they’ll ask, eyes glimmering with sadism.
The only correct answer is, “NO, no.. for the love of God, NO!”.
So, my discovery of gourmet teas was not due to the influence of the British populace. It was Adam’s doing, and he’s a step above most Englishmen in terms of refinement and taste.
But in my present situation I am unable to acquire fine, expensive and rare teas from that humble little shop of treasures at the top of a certain hill in Lincoln, Lincolnshire. If you’re ever in Lincoln, visit Lincoln Teas.
No, now I’m back to drinking the dross of the American market, cold, dark, the bitterness chased away by copious amounts of sugar.
Lipton. Tetley. Luzianne.
There are ways to make such fare more palatable. Tossing in herbs and spices during the brewing process can perk up your iced tea considerably. Here are a few of my favourite combinations:
Mint: This is an old southern favourite, but still goes a long way. If you live in the south, there’s even a good chance that there’s spearmint growing in your garden. You probably think its a weed. Bruise the elongated spiky leaves and take a whiff. If you get the unmistakable scent of spearmint, try tossing a few sprigs into your pot while brewing your tea. It imparts a fresh, uplifting flavour, and you may want to try using less sugar with this combination, or for the truly adventurous, no sugar at all.
Other uses for spearmint. Add it to your bath to soothe mild sunburn. Sip an infusion when you have an upset stomach.
Nutmeg: For a spicy, nutty flavour, try brewing your tea with cinnamon, nutmeg, or both. If using nutmeg, don’t add it to boiling water, but add after the water has ceased to boil, and let it steep for a while. (I never boil iced tea, I brew it very slowly. But I know some of you never got over your mom’s boiling method) Nutmeg is especially good in sun-tea.
Ginger: This is what I’m drinking now! I don’t brew ginger with the tea. I make a separate strong infusion of it and keep it in the fridge. When I want ginger tea, I add a splash to an individual glass. The flavour of ginger is very unusual, but a beautiful, if somewhat strong, compliment to tea.
Ginger also has tonic and cleansing properties. Try sipping an infusion of ginger after meals.
Vanilla: For lovers of very sweet tea, vanilla is almost a decadent addition. bruise some vanilla beans and add them to your brew. Try adding a little milk to your glass of iced vanilla tea, for added creamy goodness.
Cinnamon, clove and cracked black pepper: This is one of my favourites. It adds a “chai” touch and has a very stimulating flavour. If you’re reticent about the black pepper, try less of it first and add a bit more each time. I love the black pepper, and I usually go heavy on the cinammon, light on the clove, and somewhere in between with the pepper.
If you have a favourite tea concoction, why not tell us in a comment?
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Comments
This entry was posted on Friday, September 1st, 2006 at 6:32 am and is filed under criminal, edible. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
Awesome information on tea. I’m the lazy type that still uses purchased tea bags to make sun tea, but one of these days I’m going to do it “the right way”. Thank you for ideas!
When taken for medicinal purposes.. yeah. But why spike the subtle tea aroma with all kinds of violent flavours?
Tea is a very difficult beverage. I think an average cup -made with boiling water- contains over 5000 flavour components i once read.
Thanks for dropping by Kara!
Bas, what the hell article were you reading? There is a VAST difference between say, the dewy and delicate Chinese Snow Tea (which I would never dream in a million years of adulterating with any herb) and TETLEY, which is a bland, mass-produced piece of shit which can use all the help it can get.
Nothing subtle on god’s green earth about a glass of iced tetley.
Not to mention, I’m a Gemini and I like variety. I hardly consider herbs and spices “violent”. Some combinations are very subtle and complimentary to the vile and evil tetley.
Until you’ve had a cup of perfectly brewed snow tea, don’t even talk to me about subtlety of flavour.
That said, we were all sitting around drinking the rare and fragile snow tea at adam’s once. Russ was reading about the history of the stuff, how its grown from a limited number of bushes in china, harvested only a few days out of the year, picked and dried by a special ancient process, Russ commented how it sounds like they have to send Indiana Jones in to get the stuff.
When the brew was finally ready and Adam and I sat nearly weeping over the ambrosial perfection of the stuff, Russ said in a flat, unimpressed voice, “Nice tea”.
I don’t think that it is the tea that is keeping away the viewers. I think it is the vague feelings that digestives may be mentioned here as well.
And the mention of Ambrosia. How in the world Southerners took a word that was equated with food for the gods and came up with oranges and bits of coconut is beyond me.
And if you want some horrible ice tea, come to the North. They seem to believe that sugar is not enough to sweeten tea. They pour in raspberry syrup to sweeten it. It is vile.
There’s horrible tea all the world over. And I concur about the ambrosia. When I think of the food of the gods I don’t think of orange with bits of coconut in it.
I think of eggrolls.