Tea: If you want to make a strong first impression, brew a strong cuppa.
Tea strength is something that divides the nation, along with the controversy surrounding the ‘milk first or after?’ debate, and the Great Sugar Question: ‘one lump or two?’
Some – myself included – prefer a ‘builder’s brew’: tea the colour of rust, thick enough so you can almost stand your spoon in it, and strictly no sugar, thank you kindly. Lemony Snicket wrote that a tea should be ‘as bitter as wormwood and sharp as a two-edged sword’: a sentiment with which I wholeheartedly agree. A cup of hot, strong tea first thing in the morning provides that much-needed caffeine hit to get you through the day; the same at night is relaxing, cosy, a gentler alternative to coffee and tastier than Horlicks (a drink, in all honesty, I’ve never quite understood).
There’s nothing quite like strong tea to really hit the spot.
Others – the madder, it could be argued – prefer their tea ‘white’ – barely introducing the teabag to the mug before drowning it in reservoirs, lakes, an ocean of semi-skimmed. That little paper pyramid never stands a chance, and is left bobbing forlornly in the midst of lukewarm, watery milk for just a few precious moments before meeting its fate – having barely had a chance to fulfil its destiny – at the bottom of the bin, leaving behind only the merest hint of faint orange against a blank white canvas.
Alright, that may be a little melodramatic. But the fact remains that weak tea satisfies nothing: not tastebuds, not the tired mind and certainly not the fundamental English craving for a good strong cuppa. If your mid-morning mug of the good stuff hasn’t been left to brew for at least 10 minutes then how do you expect to get anything done!? The brain cannot be fuelled by warm milk alone; that, surely, is the drink of the sickly and frail. It needs that definitive taste to function: the flavour of waking up, settling down, catching up, making up, breakfast, afternoon, first meetings, last goodbyes, good news, bad news. The flavour of coming home after a horrible day at work and putting the kettle on, or meeting up with your best friends for a long-overdue chat.
Strong tea for strong relationships.
Weak tea is just that. It isn’t powerful, or evocative, or memorable. It’s sad, dreary, miserable. You forget the cup of tea your sexy new neighbour makes you if it’s like drinking a warm milkshake, and your potential future drifts listlessly through your imagination like the faint suggestion of brown floats through the overpowering white. However, the mug full of earth-coloured, exotic-smelling brew they set down in front of you sets your mind racing with thoughts of your first kiss, your wedding day, who your children will look more like. It’s the start of something important.
So, next time you have that vital job interview, or are meeting up with someone – be it a new partner or an old friend – and tea time comes around, don’t choose milky, boring, weak. Instead, set your jaw, brew your beverage, ride the wave, and set your sights high. In other words, be your tea. Be strong.
* Other tea brands are available –they just didn’t work so well with the Mulan reference, and I couldn’t resist
Tea Times News 