Issue #28

Tea Drinkers of the World, Unite!

Manifesto of an Unfussy Woman

I am not a fussy woman. I’m a go-with-the-flow, it’s-all-good-even-when-it’s-bad, easy-going-as-dandelion-fluff-in-the-wind kind of gal.

It’s true I am sensitive to the residue pepperoni, red pepper or, heaven help us, olives leave behind when picked off my pizza; and yes, I require a very particular level of firmness in my mattress in order to sleep restfully and also a padded silk eye mask and specialized pillows for my head and knees; I do not deny that I have narrowed my taste in apples to two varieties, Envy and Jazz; it’s a fact that the sight of gum or, worse, bubblegum, leads to an involuntary and probably unpleasant facial expression, even as I secretly or not-so-secretly hold my breath to avoid its vomitous smell; and okay, cigarette smoke causes me to wave my hand dramatically in front of my face but that is only because I have Thyroid Eye Disease and cigarette smoke is especially damaging to a person, unfussy as she may be, with Thyroid Eye Disease.

Quirks are quirks and mine have not crossed the line into fussiness. When plans change, babies cry, traffic backs up, drinks are accidentally spilled on my dress, I remain unruffled.

But I stand here accused of fussiness. Certain people who had breakfast with me recently at a diner claim I am high maintenance.

First of all, isn’t it proof enough of my laid-back nature that I agreed to go out to breakfast at all? To an establishment that does not have Envy or Jazz apples on the menu?

Second—I just want a proper cup of tea, people.

The waiter asked if I wanted coffee. Always, always coffee is the norm. I said, “Tea, please.” I was given a lukewarm mug, blue inside, with a rim thick as a rib-eye steak. However long I waited for the tea to brew, tea was never achieved. I was expected to drink taupe-colored water flavored with sugar. Granulated sugar, unfortunately. Raw-cane sugar, my preference, was not on the premises.

Do not judge me, coffee drinkers, unless you would be okay with a k-cup plopped in dishwater. This is about standards, standards that you yourself, as a member of the majority party, take for granted.

And so today I stand up for the rights of tea drinkers everywhere. We are a disrespected lot, not taken seriously by restaurateurs or fellow diners jacked-up on coffee. With our preference for floaty little tea leaves, we are considered gentle and undemanding, willing to accept whatever is set before us. But our needs will be overlooked no longer. Here is a list of our basic demands:

1. Very hot water. It should be boiling but I ask for less—water hot enough that if the waiter, perhaps in annoyance, spills it on my lap I will yelp.

2. A saucer, because what am I supposed to do with the wet tea bag, set it on the tabletop? Hide it in my purse?

3. A dedicated tea mug. If the mug has also been used for coffee there will be an aftertaste. If possible the mug should be white inside, not navy blue or black, so that the color of tea can be assessed.

4. One more thing about #3. A normal-shaped cup. A great big saucer, the kind you might be tempted to serve soup in or even leftover fried rice, allows the heat to dissipate too quickly. Tea drinkers do not want to sip from bowls, hand-painted and charming though they may be.

5. Further notes on #3. A thin rim, please. We don’t ask for fine china, although that has its place—just a suggestion of delicacy as we sip. We don’t like to slurp.

6. Breakfast tea. Earl Grey is not breakfast tea! I repeat, Earl Grey is not breakfast tea! Earl Grey tastes like a pot pourri sachet tucked inside the cups of your great grandmother’s very large bra in her drawer of unmentionables.

7. [Note that I am remarkably unfussy about the brand of tea. That is because, except for one particular morning when I dined with judgy coffee-drinkers, I keep Barry’s Irish teabags in my purse, along with a baggie of raw cane sugar, which sometimes slows me down at TSA but is worth it.]

And so, I put it to you, fine sirs: Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not the weak tea, and, having ears, hear not the extremely polite requests for hotter water? You coffee-drinkers may cry, Calm down, Calm down! But there is no calm. There is only bad tea. I know not what others will order; but as for me, give me decent tea or give me water! (No ice, room temp, please.)

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I Shall Always Have My Existential Despair

In my laundry closet is a framed quote by Fyodor Dostoevsky, words that show up on tea towels and tea mugs: “I say let the world go to hell, but I shall always have my tea.”

I love that quote—it speaks to the soothing nature of tea—but it turns out that in context the quote is about as soothing as a gavel smashing one’s knuckles. The line comes from Dostoevsky’s novella Notes From the Underground, which opens like this:

“I am a sick man . . . I am a wicked man. An unattractive man.”

This narrator is the same person who later proclaims his allegiance to tea, and as you might have surmised, the passage in my framed picture is not actually about the joys of tea-drinking. It’s about a generation that, in Dostoevsky’s view, chooses hedonistic pleasures over responsibilities to others.

It’s a bummer to find that out. Leave it to Mr. Cheerful to ruin a lovely brew. But I still like my picture and I will still re-hang it after my husband inexplicably hides it from me from time to time; and I will still enjoy my tea with the morning news, albeit with a teaspoon of guilt and a cold squeeze of dread.

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Tea for Two and Tunes for Tea

There are a lot of terrible songs about tea. But here are a few I like. (Links are Spotify.)

• Tea for Two, by London Studio Ensemble. The best of the cha-cha versions.

• Have a Cuppa Tea by The Kinks. Fun little song and funny that The Kinks sing it.

• Afternoon Tea by The Kinks. What is is with The Kinks and tea?

• Tea for the Tillerman by Cat Stevens. I’ve always loved to sing this short little ditty but boy is the range hard.

• When I Take My Sugar to Tea by Leon Redbone. I like his version better than Sinatra’s.

• Tea Song by Roisin O. Her voice is so lovely! Not sure who is singing the duet with her but they sure sound nice together.

• Toast and Marmalade for Tea by Tin Tin. Corny early 70s rock— I’m here for it.

• Cup O’Tea by Don Williams. Country is not my thing, but this one has an easy, old-fashioned swing to it that’s irresistible.

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