(This is a post I wrote back in July, 2018.)
Prologue: My wife recently started a blog where she’s documenting her experience of counting down the days until Sajid Javid lets her back into England. I’m on the other end of that menagerie lion, in London counting down the days until she arrives. I’m trying not to do fun London stuff, because that seems unfair and is less fun without her. This weekend, in my bid not to do fun stuff, I have sourced a variety of teas to sample and am going to report my findings to Emma and, in turn, to you. I am a cultural stereotype. This is the story of my weekend date with Camellia sinensis…
Assam
Black tea. Quick brew: recommended brew time 2-3mins.
Assam, on the Brahmaputra River in north-east India, is one of two places where tea plants are native (other: China). Assam tea is full-bodied, dark, and malty. It’s got a rich, strong, bitterness, and a lingering umami. The true “builders tea”, Assam is probably a gateway drug to increasingly more acrid hot beverages like filter coffee, Bovril, polymer-asphalt road-crack sealant, and eventually Starbucks coffee. It’s worth noting that the U.K.’s most popular tea brand PG Tips (“Pre-gestee” as it was, before they got done in 1951 for trying to claim it was a proven digestive aid) is an Assam, Ceylon, and Kenyan blend, presumably to compliment the strength and maltiness of the Assam with the light crispness of Ceylon and the brisk earthiness of the Kenyan. If you like your tea as you like your men – dark and handsome – this is the perfect choice. Just brush your teeth regularly; it’s ‘ard. Stars: ★★★★
Camomile
Black tea: infused/steeped with steamed chamomile herbs. Quick brew: recommended brew time 2-3mins.
I’m including three non-black teas on this list (this, oolong and green) on the basis of their ancestry. Camomile is a steeped ‘urbal infusion of dried chamomile flower that’s as gently steamed as the woman in Sydenham who drinks a cocktail of White Star cider and Monster on the wall in her pyjamas. Typically uses German chamomile (Matricaria recutita) or Roman chamomile (Chamaemelum nobile). Along with being sweet and floral, with a taste of daisies, it should also have a slight apple-y flavour. English use dates back to the Middle Ages, where it was touted as a sleep aid, discovered to be anti-inflammatory, and popped its aitch. Also popular in Mexico where it’s called “Manzanilla”. You can’t drink it every day as it can taste too perfume-y, but it’s nice to have a cheeky one and pretend it’ll help you drop off (although I’m clearly going to lie awake wondering whether to call myself “Chamamelum” or “Manzanilla” when I finally drop my grimecore record.) Stars: ★★★
Ceylon
Black tea. Medium brew: recommended brew time 3-4mins.
Sri Lankan tea leaf – grown at high altitude – often used in blends as well as on its own. Crisp, malty aroma with a hint of citrus. Subtly malty, as a good black tea will always be, but light and crisp to taste rather than bitter or sharp. Like the Darjeeling, it’s an almost neutral taste that focuses on the tea itself. Hence, it’s arguably the modernists’ tea, unadorned as it is by decoration and unadulterated by gimmicks. I can imagine Corbusier drinking it out of a square concrete bell-beaker while he methodically fingers his Five Points. It’s an everyday tea for the regular drinker: reliable and satisfying. Worth noting again that PG Tips is an Assam, Ceylon, Kenyan blend. Ceylon’s job in a Tips pyramid bag is to cut through the bollocks like a hot liquiform equivalent of Karl Pilkington’s Bullshit Man. Basically, if “tea-pong” existed (and, by jove, it really should) you’d play it with Ceylon. Stars: ★★★★
Chai Masala
Black tea: ginger, cloves, cinnamon, “flavourings”, chaos. Medium brew. recommended brew time 3-4mins
Is it tea? It’s traditionally made by infusing spices and tea leaves in milk rather than water. But whatever, it’s the perfect metaphor for cosmopolitan India to the extent that you might expect it to refuse to be consumed until you visit its cousin’s bazaar on the other side of town and buy something ‘cos “it won’t take long, promise”. The combination of cinnamon, cloves, and ginger means there’s so much to attend to that it’s overwhelming. Like going to a strobe-lit hall of mirrors with the cast of Alladin, the night before an exam. On stilts. It’s also way too sweet for me. If you take sugar in your tea… well firstly, you’re a degenerate reprobate; but secondly, this might actually be an interesting way to dial-up the pace for you. But if you’re a discerning tea drinker this is the equivalent of a Pumpkin Spice Latte. Pro tip: if you do regularly add sugar to your tea, why not try growing up? Stars: ★★
Darjeeling
Black tea. Medium brew: recommended brew time 3+mins.
Hailing from north-east of India, Twinings’ offering is a blend of first- and second-flush teas, combining the grey/greenish leaves collected in the spring and the purple/brownish leaves collected in the summer. Darjeeling is, of course, known as “the Champagne of teas”, presumably because it was a jolly nifty change for the Viceroy of the Raj once he and his Brahman concubines had quaffed all of the actual Bolly. It’s referred to as “intriguing” on the box so I’m worried that’s subconsciously biased my expectations, but it was the hardest to pin down for taste. Although it’s very mild and refreshing, it does have a unique undertone that turns out (I Googled it) to be Muscatel, which one presumes was also D’Artagnan’s 5G provider. I jest, of course. A sweet wine with a raisin flavour. It’s also got a buttery and light aftertaste, so if you skew away from strong teas this one’s for you. Stars: ★★★ (but could be ★★★★ for the right drinker)
Earl Grey
Black tea: oil of bergamot. Quick brew: recommended brew time 2-3mins.
It’s truly the classic. The quintessential British cuppa for the Southern-leaning aspirational middle class tea connoisseur. It’s named after the 2nd Earl of Grey, the Vicount Howick (1764-1845), who – when he wasn’t demanding fancy oils in his tea – was busy knocking-up Duchesses at Whig society meetings, exiling them to France to give birth, then shipping the child back to have his folks raise it under the impression he’s her elder sibling: a long-standing tradition for all British Prime Ministers. It’s a tasty brew, with the sharp-but-measured tartness of the bergamot giving it its unique favour. It’s the tea equivalent of mildly kinky sex. It’s not for everyone since it’s a distinct spicy and fragrant flavour and it’s certainly an acquired taste – so you probably need to be drifting emotionally toward the deviant already – but it’s a potential introduction to a new world of pleasure if you’re brave. It’s the perfect balance of drinkability and complexity, so it should be on your counter-top for daily use. Stars: ★★★★★
Green tea
Green tea. (Duh.) Quick brew: recommended brew time 2mins max.
Well it’s the bloody elixir of life, isn’t it? It prevents cancer! (No.) It aids weight loss! (Still no.) It’s defo the oldest. The Tang swigged it back as early as 900AD and it made it into Eisai’s Kissa Yojoki. It’s conceptually very zen. But preparation is anything but. Don’t brew for too long or too many tannins. Don’t use boiling water. Warm the cup first. Yada, and indeed, yada. It’s an arsehole to get right. That’s likely why it always tastes better in sushi restaurants. That bitterness is a struggle for me, so I wince most every time at the point of deglutition, but the aftertaste always seems delightful. It’s bittersweet in a literal sense and it also reminds me what tea could taste like if only I concentrated, not get distracted by my phone or the foxes loudly shagging in the park next to us. Stars: ★★★
Kenyan (Bold)
Black tea. Slow brew: recommended brew time 4-5mins (but I wouldn’t recommend 5!)
It turns out that most Kenyans drink beverages at room temperature because the rates of poverty are such that most can’t afford a refrigerator. That put a dampner on things from the get-go. (I also found out that if Emma and I were Kenyan my dad’d owe her mum a minimum 10-cow dowry.) Then it took me three seemingly over-enthusiastic brews before I finally Googled to find out that it has a characteristic amber colour that transforms through russet to a deep-red as the cup fills. I had always assumed glass teacups were a nasty post-war fad, but it actually makes sense you’d want to monitor the steep. This is a strong, full-bodied tea, similar to the Assam. What sets it apart is that it’s got a rich, almost creamy taste that’s as long-lasting and as earthy as Moses Kiptanui’s race-day sneakers. This is down to the combination of temperature, moisture, and altitude that comes from proximity to Lake Victoria. The tartness of Assam is switched for a light spice, meaning the aftertaste isn’t so overpowering. Absolutely lovely. Stars: ★★★★★
Lady Grey
Black tea: oil of bergamot, orange peel, lemon peel. Quick brew: recommended brew time 2-3mins.
It was developed in the 1990’s by Twinings as a way to appeal to those for whom the Earl Grey taste was too heady. Specifically, it was developed for an apathetic Scandinavian tea market that for some inexplicable reason wanted the chance to buy tea. The orange-y overtones mask the bergamot in the taste so it lacks the character of the Earl of Grey. It also lacks the sweetness of a genuinely fruity tea, like a Strawberry, Raspberry, or Lemon. It’s a camel: a waste of time, energy, and money. In a zero-sum world that could have been (spoiler alert) a Lapsang. If you can’t hack an Earl Grey then have a Ceylon you jævla pyse. A tea for the risk-averse dotard who struggles to lift a full cup all the way to their mouth. Lady Grey, you’re as tasteless as your big brother who’s also your dad. Yikes. Stars: ★
Lapsang Souchong
Black tea: ? Medium brew: recommended brew time 3-4mins.
This life-changing tea from the mountainous Wuyi region in the Chinese province of Fujian has a sweet smokiness that infuses the aroma as well as the taste. “I’m not surprised given the emissions China belches out!” I see you thinking, cleverly. Actually, it’s a deep peat-bog-like smokiness that calls to mind the remnants of a summer campfire or, for me, the peat fireplace of a B&B in Galway back in ought-seven. That’s the result of pinewood smoke permeating the tea leaves as they’re being dried. We’re talking earthy AF. In a world where most flavours are a chemical approximation – “strawberry” Twizzlers? The Gros Michel, FFS? – it’s so unique and authentic. But where you imagine the smokiness might taste nasty, it doesn’t. And the aftertaste is just as good: a long, velvet-y, woody taste of pine resin. Lapsang is a shock, but to taste it is to transcend existing and start living. Hear one over-excited British reviewer on Twinings.co.uk: “The tea is good but not as good as Lapsang used to be.” (Update: Twinings caused an uproar in the U.K. in 2023 when they replaced Lapsang with some disgusting ersatz toilet detergent called “Distinctly Smoky”, to near revolt.) Stars: ★★★★★. (Stars for Twinings DS: minus five.)
Oolong
It’s neither green or black, I think: it’s just… oolong? Medium brew: recommended brew time 3-4 mins.
This one took some finding. The only oolong I could find was a loose-leaf Sainsbury’s Taste The Difference range one, so I have no idea where it’s from (Fujian? Guangdong? Taiwan?). The lack of description makes me think it’s Taiwanese as you probably wouldn’t market it to English speakers as “The authentic taste of Pouchong!” It claimed to be delicate, pure, and light and it was. It was basically the green tea above, but less bitter and with a more pleasing aftertaste. Also, because it’s loose leaf you can brew it to preference. As a kid I was told that if you drink a hot drink it triggers your internal body temperature to cool you from the inside-out, so it’s actually refreshing to take one on a hot day. Which good because it’s 85 degrees in London today. But like the green tea, it’s a ball-ache to prep. Apparently, you should re-steep the same leaves and the third cut is the deepest. Stars: ★★★
Epilogue: Ok, that’s it. I’m sure there’s ones I’ve missed. But Linford-Christie-in-a-suitcase, now I desperately need the bathroom…!
