A splendid-looking kettle

More stuff to covet: Here's a splendid-looking — and obviously rugged — tea kettle ...



Spotted it on Uncrate, it's available here. It's also $70, but your kettle (electric or otherwise) is not the piece of teaware you want to skimp on. Dig the stainless steel/zinc construction and natural cork handles (genius).

Tea: 'The symbol of all of Turkey'

This video shows a presentation by writer Katharine Branning related to her book, Yes, I Would Love Another Glass of Tea. It's a curious read, written in the form of letters to a historical figure named Lady Mary Montagu — the idea is to give an overall impression of Turkey and its rich culture, which includes a specific take on tea. "In my eyes," she says, "this little glass of tea is the symbol of all of Turkey."

Turkey is high on my tea-travel wish list, and Branning's talk makes it even more appealing (though I'd like to knock the video editor upside the head here). "In Turkey, you don't say, 'Breakfast is ready,'" she says. "You say, 'The tea has steeped.'"

I'm going to start doing that.

Covet this wooden tea table

Lainie at Lainie Sips posted a nifty photo on Facebook a while back — this photo:



That's one lovely tea table. It folds up into the chest you see lower left, with beautifully carved storage shelves inside the doors, leaves for extra space and a stout stool.

Comes from this China exporter, no price listed.

Wednesday Tea should happen eight days a week

Just a note to pass on a link — I wanted to comment in more than 140 characters ...

The Harvard Crimson published a story today (Wednesday) that I found quite touching. Seems a pastor at the university, the Rev. Peter J. Gomes, had a tradition of hosting Wednesday Tea. It sounds rich:

Immediately upon arriving at Sparks House, tea-goers would find themselves in the warm embrace of the Reverend. After an initial greeting, they would pass Gomes’ study — on the right — and enter the living and dining rooms — on the left — where tea was prepared. There, a designated “tea-pourer” would pour the steaming beverage from a polished silver tureen. Although the weekly event had little structure, the Reverend insisted on including typical Anglophile customs, choosing a different friend each week be the guest of honor and serve his visitors.

I now adore the Rev. Gomes. But he passed away last year. Nonetheless, students restarted the tradition last fall, and this story is full of students and faculty commenting on the revelatory aspects of these simple gatherings — "a real appreciation for the importance of social interaction and the preservation of communities," "hospitality in its purest form" and, indeed, "We don’t have anything like this in our culture."

Everything described here is exactly what I value most about tea. Read the full story here.

Thinker, sailor, soldier on and don't cry

These two are the totems of my table. The teacup, well, of course, always on hand. The wee Thinker — I bought him at a sidewalk market last fall. Deeply entrenched in graduate study, I looked at him and knew I needed his encouragement, his example. He sits by my computer, frozen in thought, as I hunch forward and crank the gears of my own creaky brain, analyzing research and cobbling together my own. Like a Buddha's belly, I sometimes rub his head for good luck before firing up Google Scholar and EndNote. Often, he's staring down into the tea cup, and I pity him because he looks like he'd love a cup.

My brain literally hurts. I've been away from this blog a short while (sorry, life happens), swamped by one of the busiest seasons I've experienced in a long, long time. Craziness at work, three grad classes, a personal life woven in there somewhere. I think back to a wealth of languid days last year, of afternoon teas that stretched on for hours (thank heavens for that well-insulated silver teapot of my grandmother's) — they seem like a dream. Thank heaven tea is as much a fuel for brain work as it is a social lubricant and a meditation for stolen moments. Those that I manage to steal nowadays are priceless.

I'm not complaining; you're busy, too, likely busier. I know so many unjustly laid-off people — busy is fine, busy is good, busy is a blessing I count every panicky morning. It feels great to have wind in my sails, even if I've no idea where I'm headed or how to get all this cargo home. Surely Robert Fortune had a few such moments.

(Forgive the dreadful pun in this post's title.)

Tuesday tea tunes: Pimped out

"Tea time," sing the Pimps of Joytime, "do you wanna have some?"



Why, yes. I would.

Teas I've been tasting

I don't do a lot of reviewing on this site, but here are some splendid teas I've been drinking recently ...

Stash Tea's organic Lu'an Gua Pian green tea has been a delight, a summery green throughout this thus-far mild winter. It's an open, flat leaf, like a Japanese green, but with a sweet taste — more floral than vegetal, especially on the finish — and a bright yellow liquor. Great on its own.

A colleague from China passed along a packet of wonderful green tea from the Enshi Huazhi organic tea company. I'd relay more details if I could read the package. Bright green in the cup, good grassy flavor, great for gongfu.

A new location for Adagio Teas has opened in downtown Chicago, and on a rainy afternoon I finally stopped in for some sampling. I made two discoveries. First, I'm not much of an herbal drinker, but I'd just had a massage and was looking for something without caffeine — and I had a pronounced craving for hibiscus. I was guided to the Wild Strawberry, full of fruit (pieces of apple and berries), hibiscus and rose hips. Totally not my thing, but I really enjoyed it and bought some; not a bad dessert tea. The star in Adagio's lineup, though, is the Fujian Rain, a fired oolong with an eye-opening balance of flavors: woody, barely smoky, and every cup tastes like you steeped it with mineral water.

Tuesday tea tunes: Equal-ity

I've heard the first four-star album of 2012, and it is "Bhiman," the semi-self-titled sophomore outing for San Francisco-based singer-songwriter Bhi Bhiman. I'm nuts about this guy. He's funny, he's poignant, he's got a very Woody Guthrie-esque balance of both. He's also an unassuming gent whose leather-lunged voice usually takes people completely by very pleasant surprise.

Here he is performing an older original, "Equal in My Tea." It's about meeting his wife and realizing she was the sweet ingredient his brew required ...

A cup of letters

I succumbed to buying a tea shirt this time last year, and a friend just pointed me toward another nifty design:



It's available at RedBubble one shirts or hoddies (as well as stickers!). Race ya.

Tuesday tea TV: Redistribution of girth

How are those new year resolutions working out for you?

If you're already sick of going to the gym, try instead the unique body-shaping method demonstrated in this Japanese tea commercial ...

Still steaming over teapot museum

This is not, repeat not, a political blog. I have my own reasons for disliking the Tea Party, but that aside the loosely defined group is a hitch in my kettle mainly because its existence has made searching for tea news and information increasingly difficult, especially online.

But one Tea Party beef is actually related to tea.

Recent stories about Republican presidential candidate Rick Santorum kept mentioning that one of his cardinal sins, according to competing candidates, is that he once cast a vote in favor of Congressional funds supporting the Sparta Teapot Museum in North Carolina.

"Why can't there be a teapot hall of fame?" asked Sonny Kamm, who launched the museum with his wife, Gloria, and philanthropist Philip Hanes (as in Hanes underwear). "And we said, 'why not!'"

Amazingly, they managed to secure $400,000 in state funds for the project, as well as another $500,000 from Congress. A furor erupted over the expenditure, however, and it was canceled.

Despite all that scratch, the museum closed in 2010. Too bad, sounds as if they put on some great exhibits.

Tuesday tea tunes: 'Mad Tea Party'

Digging this rootsy amble from a Polish band called Camero Cat, here spewing a description of one spooky "Mad Tea Party":

Tea from Guatemala

From the My Friends Travel Far More Than I Do file ...

A dear long-lost friend of mine has been found, and she's in Berkley writing a wonderful spiritual blog. She also recently sent me the following envy-inducing dispatch and photos, which I'm sharing ...

Friends traveled to Coban, Guatemala, to visit their son for Christmas (said son staying at a monastery for a year). After dinner this evening, we sipped souvenirs ... Tea, from the only tea plantation in the region (see below) – yes, individually bagged, but oh-so-smooth, and fresh. It tasted like it knew exactly what it was – not Chinese tea, not British — definitely South American ... and as mellow and interesting as my dinner companions. Sweetened lightly with honey from a vial packed in my companion’s carry-on – honey from Guatemalan bees nourished only by orchids. Too good not to share with a tea-lover ...

The case of the traveling tea case

When I was a budding twentysomething hipster, I thought I was too cool for cooking school when I acquired a portable bar. You can find these in antique shops all the time now — it's a splendid vintage leather case, like a bulky, hard briefcase, and contains slots inside for two bottles, as well as a pair of small cups, a bottle opener tool, cocktail spoon and strainer. The eyes must have seriously rolled as I strutted into the party and set up my own mixology post.

Now that I covet tea paraphernalia, I'm drooling over this 1920s tea case...



This article about a later reproduction of the case -- which, alas, does not indicate where you could buy such an item -- explains:

In 1930, Louis Vuitton delivered its version of this tea case, an elegant and practical piece designed to be compact and yet easy to remove and use. The case contains cups, pots and all the other paraphernalia for a proper cup of tea on the road. While path-breaking at the time, today the piece is easy to identify with. It has the economy of space and packaging that is often seen in modern luggage, consumer electronics and even architecture.

Here's a promotional video from Vuitton giving a little background for the case's creation ...

Tuesday tea tunes: So I drink tea

A wintry, melancholy strum called "The Tea Song" from an unsteady lil' band Google has otherwise never heard of, the Delphiniums Blue:



I know of only one way to avoid my misery
So I drink tea

Wint-o-greeeeeeeen!

I had no idea you could still buy Teaberry gum, but lo and behold here 'tis in a neighborhood frozen custard joint with old-timey pretensions.

Teaberry is just a minty chewing gum (from ye olde Clark company) flavored from the Eastern Teaberry, a strain of wintergreen plant, so it's that Life Savers kick instead of mere peppermint or spearmint.

In the 1960s, Herb Alpert & the Tiajuana Brass wrote a theme for this Teaberry commercial ...



Native Americans, though, did infuse teaberry leaves as a medicine. Teaberry plants are plentiful, particularly in the eastern U.S.; here's a site with detail about using it as an herbal tea. The Republic of Tea makes a Lemon Wintergreen blend that contains leaves and oil.

Tea, photos, music, oui, oui!

I adore checking in with the Tea Masters Blog, even though it's in French, because the fella lays out gorgeous tea spreads and photographs them beautifully. The images, like the one above, are often breathtaking. This particular post (translated link here) caught my eye and ear — dig the pipa, a four-stringed Chinese stringed instrument. Stephane talks about the music, but it's also a striking object on his tea table. His teaware is gorgeous. I've got to go to Taiwan.

Tuesday tea TV: 'Gimme a tea, you bastard'

In the new year, may we all be more assertive about our tea choices ...



(Tuesday Tea Tunes will now mix up occasionally with some choice non-musical videos. The tea song well is drying up a bit, and I don't want to stretch it too far...)

How's it hanging?

How're ya feeling this morning?

If your New Year's celebration was intense, or if you don't exactly remember, a cup of tea on the morning after is always a good prescription. It's no hangover cure in and of itself, but it couldn't hurt.

As Tallulah Bankhead (pictured, looking rather blue in black-and-white) said, “Don’t be swindled into believing there’s any cure for a hangover. I’ve tried them all: iced tomatoes, hot clam juice, brandy peaches. Like the common cold it defies solution. Time alone can say it. The hair of the dog? That way lies folly. It’s as logical as trying to put out a fire with applications of kerosene.”

That advice is on a Flavorwire list of hangover cures cited from famous writers and celebrities.

A few tea merchants occasionally market a blend as a hangover salve (this one's of note) -- and this new restorative recipe involving twig tea and plums at least sounds tasty -- but plain ol' tea is the best bet. Hydration is really the only answer, anyway, and caffeine is usually good for a headache.

Ask not for which desire the bell tolls

In Japan, New Year's Eve traditions include the ringing of temple bells 108 times each, symbolizing the exorcism of the 108 earthly desires for the hew year.



The onoe-gama is a kettle shaped like a Korean bell, used to serve tea and symbolize this calendar-ending, bell-ringing purification during the New Year's tea ceremony, joya-gama.

A pure, happy new year to you all!