I’m not much of a morning person. I can’t really eat that much and I’m grumpy about not being able to get back to sleep — worst is when I wake up and I’m still tired with no plans and it proves impossible no matter how much I try to go back to sleep.
My breakfast is tea, and at mornings I’m very much a traditionalist. Earl Grey. Green or black doesn’t matter, but I’ve tried other blends and it just don’t work. It feels wrong, one should never start the day with a wrong.
Pause every once in a while, remove your glasses, think about that last great sentence you read, sigh, sip your tea and then get back to it.
Vitt te = Swedish for white tea.
Vitae = Latin for life.
The likeness of vitt te and vitae can not be a coincidence! Also, I accidentally forgot about the tea and had the infusor in the water for an hour or more… It’s a bit cold now.
Okay, but what kind of tea? I am always looking for new ones to try out.
Right now, it’s a cocoa/whisky-blend that I don’t know what’s it called. And then I add a tiny amount of Lapsang in order to give it some smokiness. I’m one of those that prefer fruit and flower to be at a minimum in my tea. (Even though I cheat with the Earl Grey variants.)
Developing tea. All this snow and keeping warm by tea reminds me of Uppsala. I’m not an overtly nostalgic person, too much of the past is covered in a murky cloth sack of dread for that, but I do miss that sense of belonging. Sharing a pot of tea while sitting on the floor. The small things.
Source: Flickr / carboncopy
For people who like design and tea, this is fucking porn.
One can never have too many teapots. I believe we have discussed this before.
Oh, my, god. The Buddha Tree teapot! If someone gives that one to me, I’ll love that person till I die. Gender and possible necrophilia be damned.
While I do prefer loose tea to the bags, I have to admit they’re quite handy in some ways. Easier to carry along and it also serves as a way to remove eventual discomfort of getting condoms. Look at the wrapper. It’s like getting the same thing and no sane person is ashamed of getting tea — except for that Lipton crap, yeach. The one who came up with this ought to get the Nobel prize in something.
It can’t be a coincidence that there are a lot of sex metaphors in tea. (Dunk the bag (which you shouldn’t do), fill the pot, burn the hand, steaming cup of the fine stuff, pull out the bamboo whisk and give it a good stir. Endless possibilities.)
The cup you use to drink tea (and whisky) is important. They need to have the right feel. Sure, you can go ahead and drink the dub from a glass like normal people but where the feeling in that? And tea like that? Shit, don’t get me started on those cafés where they give you hot tea in tall glasses that’ll burn your fingers to crispy frensh fries — but less yellow and tasty. Just getting the tea from the counter to a table is problem.
No. Paper cups work better. Not all of it gets hot in an instant when you drink tea and whisky… Well, it’s fun to watch die-hard traditionalists cringe and almost break apart in front of your eyes.
These cups though, they’re the real deal. Proper workmanship, and clearly individual. Found a set of two for 10 SEK while thrifting — about $1 and a few cents — and the edge on both of them are clearly not the same. It’s a bit wobbly if you look closer and it has lots of small marks. They also feels damn good in the hand, which is the most important thing.
My quest for a good tea cup has ended. Now I just need top find a good pot.
Do you want to dildo your kettle? Personally, I can’t see what’s wrong with a normal kettle in clay. Making tea is supposed to be calming and something that requires attention. It’s the liquid version af a vinyl record if you like. Sure, it is possible to just put it on and then not be bothered but then much of the point disappears.