transcript

Speaker 1:
[00:00] There's just something so inherently cozy about a warm cup of steaming tea for some reason. And not just because tea is regularly used as a medicinal sleep aid. Although, if you look in my cupboards right now, you'll see a plethora of sleepy teas. Although I've not always been into drinking tea so much, I'd say that that was something that came a little bit later in my life. I can't remember the first time that I started enjoying a cup of fruity or minty tea before bed. I wouldn't say it's a ritual so much, but if I'd had a particularly hard day, I'll certainly boil up the kettle and steep myself a nice warm cup of. My favorite at the moment is apple and cinnamon tea. Something really cozy about a cinnamon flavor, closely followed by the minty flavors. You know, supposedly, according to Chinese legend, tea was invented by, I always forget his name, Emperor Shen Nong, I think, some nearly 3000 years BC. And supposedly, he entirely accidentally dropped some leaves into a boiling pot of water, and then decided to drink it. Now, I'm dubious as to how true that legend is, but I like it as a myth. You know, the idea that something so prevalent and globally adored today was invented nearly by accident, that's quite humorous to me. I'm sure, in reality, there must have been a little bit of thought put behind it. Although I'm not quite sure what the true history of tea is. I do know that for some time it was used medicinally, before it was drank recreationally. And, of course, it's still used medicinally today, as I say. It can be a really, really useful sleep aid. Very comforting. Certain active ingredients. Chamomile. Nettles. This is a certain ingredient. I forget the name. You may know what I'm talking about. Maybe it begins with a Z. Then it's supposed to be very good at helping you fall asleep. There's other things that tea can do for us. Certain teas are meant to be full of antioxidants. When my partner was pregnant with our son, she would drink raspberry leaf tea. This was supposedly because it's meant to, if drank, quite regularly, some months up to labor. It's meant to ease the process of giving birth. And not just as some sort of old wives' tale. There is some truth behind that, supposedly. My love for tea now makes me wish that I picked it up a little bit earlier. And to be honest, I had every opportunity to do so. When I was a little bit younger, I used to work in a tea shop, quite a fancy tea shop, or at least it took itself quite seriously. It was quite a famous London chain. At least it's famous here in the UK. If you happen to be from the UK, and you've got a famous, prestigious tea purveyor in your mind, it's probably the one that I worked for. I won't say it, just in case. But it's probably that one. I didn't work there for very long. I think it was probably only three months or so. One of those jobs you get when you're young, just because you need a job for the meantime. I don't think I was particularly interested in tea, although they did sell coffee as well, which at the time I was much more into. Although more for its, let's say medicinal qualities, they're helping me get up in the morning. I think my acquired taste and, dare I say, snobbery for coffee came a little bit later. Not that I'm too snobby about coffee, to be honest. I'll drink anything. I really will. I don't mind. But if I have the choice, I have preference. But as I say, I worked there for probably only three months altogether, but I was infused in the world of tea completely. Excuse the pun. Like I say, they took their tea selling pretty seriously. And I remember the uniform there was quite formal. You know, it was a pristine white shirt and black suit trousers, shiny black shoes, and would wear these embroidered dark navy aprons with a big pocket on the front. I remember I used to like it because I could keep all sorts of things in there without it appearing too much like I was carrying anything with me. And it made you look like someone who was there to serve tea most certainly. I felt professional wearing that uniform. And their professionalism did not stop at nearly the clothes they made us wear. I remember when I first started, and I went into the small little back room that was the staff area slash stock room, and had to sit there amongst shelves of tins of various tea leaves ready to be stocked. Behind me, several boiling kettles, ready to be producing tasters for the customers. The manager who hired me at the time presented me with this thick folio. A plain black cover with the name of the company written on the front, I'm Leigh, and it was essentially a laminated ringbinder with the name of every tea and every coffee that they sold and two or three paragraphs about how it's made, where it came from, how best to drink it. Bearing in mind that the variety available at this shop was immense. There were perhaps 250 different kinds of tea and coffee. And the expectation, as they explained to me there and then on my first day, was that during my lunch breaks, I should sit and read this folio so that should anyone come in and ask me about the teas or the coffees, I'd be able to explain. Now, my older self, looking back, sees this as quite an ambitious and perhaps over-much thing to ask of a young employee. But at the time, I took this quite seriously. I wanted to be able to know about these things. I think I took a certain pride in any work that I did. I think I still have that as an affectation. And I want it to not have to stand there in front of a customer asking me a question and say, I don't know, I'm sorry. So I did my best to learn what I could. And at the time, I remember learning quite a bit. About the many varieties. Now, I think I could probably write what I remember on a post-it note in its entirety. One of my sticking memories from that folio was about the making of Jasmine tea. I think because it shattered an expectation of mine, it also ended up being an expectation of many customers. In that, there was a belief that the Jasmine tea itself contained Jasmine, which is not true. Jasmine tea is actually made by taking the leaves, the tea leaves, and stacking them horizontally with layers of Jasmine in between. The idea being that the Jasmine in the hot and humid climates will give out this aroma that then seeps upwards through these woven stacks of leaves and infuses the tea leaf with its aroma, rather than actually putting any Jasmine in the tea itself. Which I found quite interesting. And I certainly relished telling customers that they were mistaken in believing that there was Jasmine in their Jasmine tea. Like I say, I didn't spend very long in that tea shop. I enjoyed it while I was there, I think, in some ways, especially when I became more competent. I think any job is more enjoyable when you feel comfortable, when you feel like you know what you're doing. But the element of relaxation in the process of selling tea, especially in the making of it, there was a really particular process that had to be adhered to when making the testers, for people to come and try as they entered the shop. The water had to be boiled, but then left to rest until it was a very particular temperature, 70 degrees, I believe. No hotter, where you'd burn the leaves. It would affect the taste. And so, the job involved a lot of waiting. And even when the water got to the right temperature, you were slowly steeping the leaves. And you, again, had to wait a certain period of time for exactly the right amount of flavor to infuse into the water before you could pour it out. And there's something quite meditative about that process. Even the process of making it, let alone drinking it, is a calming one. But I do believe there was a certain amount of, should I say, pomp that came along, those particular customers who came to buy fancy and expensive tea. People were very particular, and honestly not very forgiving of a uninformed, do-eyed young employee at a tea shop. I remember, whilst I was there, there was a particular event around this specific kind of Da Xiling tea. I think they refer to it as First Flush, being the very first pick of the spring season. And it's meant to have the most balanced, light, delicate, but sought-after taste. And we had a very limited supply of it, but we made a big event of it, and of course, it was much more expensive than any regular daishiling. For some reason, if people were unable to buy perhaps as much as they wanted, or came too late and unable to buy any at all, it's caused a lot of anger, a lot of supposed entitlement in them. I think that sort of sums up a lot of what it was like to work in that shop. I think if the people that I worked with went so lovely, I wouldn't have stayed half as long. I wouldn't have stayed as short as my stay was. But I enjoyed learning about tea and being around tea. As I say, that would have been an ample opportunity to have begun to enjoy drinking tea. And whilst I certainly admit that I tasted plenty of it whilst I was there, and appreciated some of the flavors that came through and the process of making it, I can't say I ever began to love it. I've never really been a fan of tea since I was little, though I feel that there is this element of British culture, albeit very subtle, that applies a little bit of pressure to enjoy tea, specifically black British breakfast tea, what some people might call builders tea. You know, it's quite a part of the culture, in England particularly, to come home after a long journey, and put the kettle on for a cup of tea. If you have someone coming to your house, one of the first things you'll offer them is a cup of tea. But I never really enjoyed the taste so much. Though I wanted to, because like I say, it was something drank by my whole family. So I tried to give it my best go. I can't count the number of cups of tea I've drank politely as a means of fitting in, in my life. Although I've always enjoyed a cup of tea with something sweet, I honestly believe that that is the best way to enjoy a cup of tea. With a nice slice of cake or perhaps some chocolate and biscuits. There's something complimentary about the deep, earthy flavor of tea. And anything soft and sweet. I still enjoy that to this day. If there is a pot of tea at an afternoon tea, another great British tradition, where there's plenty of cakes and sandwiches, I will almost certainly drink that whole pot of tea. The first time I remember really enjoying a cup of tea was when I first had Earl Grey. And for those of you who haven't had the pleasure of drinking a cup of Earl Grey, although if you have tried it, it's not to everyone's taste. You may disagree, but something about that, this bergamot flavor and floral addition to your normal black tea really did something for me. I thought it was very unique. Enjoyed it a lot. That was kind of my entrance into slightly more frequent tea drinking. You know, when I think of T, one of the first things that comes to my mind is the character of Uncle Iroh from the children's cartoon series, Avatar The Last Airbender. I don't know if you're familiar. Perhaps you are. Perhaps you aren't, but, well, if you are, you'll know that he has a deep philosophy around tea making. It's quite a central element to his character. And his character has such a warm and inviting presence to it. It feels very spiritual. And in many ways, he does embody the archetype of a tea lover, I think. Or at least, what is represented in tea. Sometimes I like to imagine being a character like Uncle Iroh. Like I say, you might not know, but he's an elderly character. He's got a round, pop belly, wrinkled eyes, always joking, laughing, smiling, creating levity for a situation, but not in a foolish way necessarily. In a wholesome, in a wise way. And he's the type of fellow who would just wander through the countryside, through the forest, tending to himself, building a fire, bringing his pot and his leaves, and making tea out in the open to sip peacefully as he watches the world go by. And that appeals to me. I very much like the idea.