Archive for the ‘Lazy Literatus’ Category

all the same teablogger


2011
09.14
Jo Johnson suggested in a blogpost that Robert Godden and I were the same person.  Here’s the whole post: World Tea East – Finale.  She was joking with VL Hamilton, as she describes it, and VL assured her that there was no way that we were the same.  Like I say, I’m sure that this was an offhand joke, but what better place to start off a blogpost.

First of all, Robert and Geoff Norman and I have joked that we’re the Beasts of Brewdom.  We not only interact with one another on twitter, but we find ourselves blogging in tandem and doing what little we’re able to for the sake of masculine tea drinking.

But I’ve taken the funny off-hand comment and wondered to myself what sets us apart.

Robert’s blog which is called The Devotea’s Tea Spouts is a collection of musings and curiosities that he’s written and he’s particularly good when he’s somehow riled up and/or got a score to settle.  One of my favourite of these is Carry On Up the Spout.  Try it you’ll like it.

And Geoff has included his explorations with tea, as well as cultural ponderings.  One of his better recent posts was Iran So Far for…Tea.  All about tea in a part of the world about which we get such murky information.  Periodically, he’ll go on a tear and write a piece of tea-fuelled prose that is immensely entertaining.  Watch for just such a piece of fiction.  It’s worth the wait.

What am I doing here?  What’s the purpose of a teablog?  Partly, it’s a documentation about my love affair with tea.  It’s a place I like to record the minutiae and the tangentially tea-related.  I’ve also purposely tried to make this blog as accesible as possible for tea newcomers.  I joke about bringing people over to the leaf-side, but it really has been a pleasurable avocation of mine to attract curious people to try good tea.

More on that soon.  Much more.  But in the meantime I’ll simply say that to be confused with the likes of The_Devotea or even Lazy Literatus is not such a bad predicament to be in at all.

you pay more for appearance


2011
09.10

I’m imagining someone shopping for tea in an excellent tea shop.  The customer is relatively new to tea, and has only recently gotten up the nerve to actually ask to smell the tea leaves before he decides which tea he’ll take home.


Although he has a selection of quite a few different sorts of tea, he’s been on a bit of an Assam kick lately.  He even forces himself to drink the other tea in his tea cabinet, but he’s a bit concerned that he’d actually reach for the Assam every single time (day and night) if he thought it would be ok.  He’s not at all sure it’s ok.  


This customer’s still quite uncertain when it comes to all of this tea and its paraphernalia.  He loves so much about what he’s learned about loose-leaf tea, but he has to force himself not to bolt out of the tea shop when there are too many other customers present or even worse when the tea seller asks him even the simplest questions.  


So he goes into the shop at times when he hopes no-one else is there.  Today’s just such a day, and the nice thing is that the tea seller is the only other person in the shop.  He asks for 100g of his latest favourite Assam, and asks about several others.  The guy behind the counter happily opens each canister for the tea to be smelled.  And then the question.  This question comes eventually.  Every tea seller knows it’ll appear sooner or later.


‘Why’s this tea more expensive than the others?’


Well, the easiest answer is that this tea demanded more at the tea auction.


Really?  Is that it?  That’s the only reason?

Actually, no.  There’re so many things that go into the pricing of tea, and it’s quite byzantine all the rules and machinations that are involved.  When it comes to this Assam, people seem willing to pay more if there are little golden tips on the leaves.


Don’t the little golden tips on the leaves make the tea taste better?


Not necessarily.  Interestingly, how they process the tea to create the golden colour might not even be the best way to process tea for the best taste.


Hm, that’s a bit odd.  This tea that’s entirely black might actually taste better than the more expensive one that’s black with little golden-tipped leaves.  Is that right?


It might.  It’s not as if all golden tea tastes bad.  And some tea with golden-tipped leaves can be really quite exquisite.


Well for the time being, I intend to buy my tea based upon how it smells and tastes not how it looks.


sidenote


This blogpost began when I considered a conversation I overheard on twitter between Geoff Norman (@lazy_literatus) & Michael J Coffey (@michaeljcoffey) about this very topic of whether the golden colour in the leaves actually made the tea taste better.  Here’s exactly what Michael said over on twitter:


Short answer: “best” flavor may require wide range of processing req’s, gold color req very specific processes.…Therefore, if you process for gold color, you limit what you can do with flavor…BUT people pay $$$ for color.’


Wanted to bring up the topic partially because I’m fascinated with the way tea is priced and also because I like explanations that are quirky and counter intuitive.  This one has plenty of both of these things.

Who would put milk in their Darjeeling tea?


2011
08.01



There was a lively discussion this morning about polluting Darjeeling tea with milk. Robert Godden (you might know him as The_Devotea over on twitter) mentioned in passing that his wife insisted on drinking her Darjeeling with milk and sugar. It’s Australia. They don’t necessarily stand on convention in the distant reaches of civilisation.

For a few brief moments we had a Beasts of Brewdom situation. Almost immediately after the offhand remark about milk and sugar in Darjeeling, there was shock and dismay coming from up in Portland, Oregon. Lazy Literatus, who’s also known by his given name Geoff Norman, could be heard spitting up his tea upon hearing how the Darjeeling was being mishandled.
Well at this point, another Australian (Verity Fisher also known as @joiedetea) quietly admitted that she’d uncharacteristically added milk to her Darjeeling that morning because she’d over-steeped her tea and the milk cut down on the bitterness. I was worried Geoff might have an aneurism at this point. She assured him that it wouldn’t happen again, but I’m not entirely sure he believed her. Only time will tell.
I have an Irish friend who’s been ordering Darjeeling in bulk for decades from the Tee Kampagne, and he’s been putting milk in his tea since he was small. Or smaller. He wouldn’t give a damn what these tea obsessives on twitter thought about how he took his tea. He doesn’t idealise this high mountain delicacy like we do. It’s simply another black tea for him. Simple.
So what about you? Are you more like Geoff, whose precarious health status seems to have recovered from the original shock, or me even? Would you sooner pour used motor oil in your Darjeeling than destroy it with moo juice?
Or are you a bit of a Philistine on the whole ‘milk in my Darjeeling‘ debate? It’s just tea, after all.

Lazy Literatus - Lahikmajoe Drinks Tea