Ever since senior year of high school, I’ve consumed an almost daily dose of tea. I like all kinds of tea. I have a closet for my tea, actually. I’m not a tea snob by any means; I can appreciate delicious loose leaf and a pot of tea brewed to perfection, but most of my tea comes from bags and is served in a mug these days.
This week, I’ve been obsessed with green tea. Maybe it’s that lovely sick feeling it gave me, or maybe it’s the way it tastes a bit like burnt grass, but I’m in love. The more I drink, the more difficult it is to stop. Right now I’m drinking a decaf green tea (in between cups of delicious herbal infusions).
All this imbibing has got me thinking about green tea. What is this magical stuff?
I read somewhere that green tea lost popularity in England because it was replicated with copper dyes because taxes were so high and people wanted a cheap way of tricking those silly Brits. The dyes used for fake black tea were usually sheep’s dung, which is hella gross but far less dangerous for you than copper. Imagine sitting down for your teatime and taking a delicate sip of sheep shit instead of darjeeling. Ick. Better than death from copper I guess.
I also knew that all teas come from the Camillia plant and that the difference between black and green teas was the time at which the leaves were picked.
Next, I wanted to know if I could find a green tea version of Early Grey tea. Because Earl Grey is the shit. You TOTALLY CAN. That’s just one version of the many that I found (you can pretty much call anything Early Grey as long as you throw enough bergamot in it) but that website looks bad ass. In fact, the more I look at it, the more I think I should marry it.
Then, I thought I’d ask the internet what it thought the best tea ever was. I attempted to accomplish this by googling “best tea ever” but I came up with a bunch of ways to brew the best tea ever. No, Internet, I want to know what tea is the best ever, not how to steep it. Oh well, Internet. I know the answer anyhow (Earl Grey).
At this point I’m really starting to crave another cup. Staring longingly at the Tea Closet, I think of how many more questions I can ask the Internet about tea. The desire overwhelms me. Tea is calling my name. Must . . . have . . . one . . . more . . .