Drinking tea in a coffee-drinkers' world.
Tea drinkers. We exist. We're all around you, but largely invisible. From time to time you'll see a small square of paper dangling from a string on a stranger's coffee cup. A flag that symbolizes a preference. A preference that brings with it invisible struggles.
First, let me define tea. I'm talking about just regular tea. Not green tea. Not herbal tea, not white or red tea. Just: tea. If you were to order a cup of tea at a diner, you'd probably get a Lipton tea bag in the US. Other common brands in the US and UK are PG Tips, Twinings, Tetley, and Yorkshire. So when I say "tea," I mean this, sometimes called "black tea." I'm also going to keep things simple and only refer to making tea with tea bags. If you don't already sympathize with the plight of the common domestic tea drinker, then you won't be able to handle the intricacies of loose-leaf tea.
Coffee drinkers have a problem. But only one. "Is the coffee good?" That's it. Sure, it can get cold, or be old, but that's not unique to coffee. Tea drinkers, however, are subjected to a wide range of indignities. My goal is to make you aware of them, so that you may sympathize and -- if you are in the service industry -- stop treating tea drinkers as second-class citizens.
Let's begin with temperature. Black tea is meant to be made with boiling water. Not boiled. Boiling. Not hot, not warm. Boiling. When you attend a conference, and they are kind of enough to even offer tea, you will find a small box of tea bags and a large hot water dispenser that, if you're lucky, will provide water hot enough to have visible steam. But it's not boiling. This may sound petty, so let me explain. Tea is properly made with boiling water, then steeped for an appropriate time, to achieve the desired flavor. This is so important to the process that tea drinkers will boil water, pour some into the teapot or mug to heat it up, dump it, and only then place the tea bag and more just-boiled water into it. Yes, even the amount of heat lost to the mug is jealously accounted for. So no, the steaming cup of water, poured into a cool ceramic cup at the diner is not ideal.
Next, let's talk volume. Coffee drinkers are spoiled with it. Some servers seem to make it their mission to refill your coffee cup as many times as possible -- even if it's still three-quarters full. But tea drinkers? Well, I hope you're not expecting much. Usually, tea served in a restaurant is provided in a cup the size of a coffee cup, or smaller. Yet it's barely more than half full. Three-quarters, if you're lucky. I assume this is because it makes it easier to carry without spilling. Coffee is carried around in carafes with lids, with no chance to spill. So they'll fill your coffee to the brim. In fact, a coffee drinker will be cheerfully asked whether they'd like room for milk or cream. Tea drinkers aren't given enough water to make proper use of a single tea bag. To add injury to insult, the less water there is, the faster it cools, bringing us back to our temperature problem.
Okay, so now we've had our spot of tea. Four sips of tea that was cool to the point that we had to drink it all in practically one long gulp before it gets cold. At which point, we'd rather like a bit more, to make up for the disappointment thus far. Here is where one of two things usually happen: We ask for another cup of tea, and are provided another cup of hot water. No tea bag. We're expected to re-use a single-use tea bag. One that is sitting, pathetic and cold, and possibly sitting in the remnants of our eggs, as we so politely tried to find a place to put it where it would not stain the tablecloth. Tea bags are single use. However, if we are blessed with a new tea bag, we're often charged for another cup. A coffee drinker can drink two pots in a sitting for pennies, while we're expected to pay the price of a box of 100 tea bags for two cups. I understand that tea bags cost money, but so do coffee beans. Just because you don't see the beans with each refill doesn't mean they weren't used. Also, if you order a large tea at a drive-through, you'll usually get a single tea bag, regardless of how much water is in the cup. That's utter negligence.
As previously mentioned, making a good cup of tea has a fairly simple recipe. Boiling water, and steeping for a specific amount of time. Steeping is a fancy word for "letting the tea bag sit in the water." This is why it's extremely irritating to order tea and receive a partially full cup of warmish water with a tea bag sadly floating in it. Now we must guess approximately how long it's been sitting there and set our mental timers for an odd amount of time.
This is a sad state of affairs indeed, is it not? Well, I'm not even close to done. Feel my pain.
As I said, "black tea" means "tea." It's the standard. You never hear anyone order "black tea." It's always just "tea." Unless they want green tea, in which case they order green tea. Or herbal, or red, etc. So why -- why?! do some restaurants bring something else to the table? Then, when you ask for "black tea," they don't even carry it. There is a well-known national chain that I will not name that serves only Darjeeling tea. There is no "normal" tea available. I will point out that this is a place exclusively known for serving great breakfasts. If any place should at least carry Lipton, it's them.
Sometimes you'll get lucky and be served an empty cup with a small carafe of hot water. This is the best-case scenario, as this is the hottest water you can expect outside of your own kitchen. In this case, I've even been provided two tea bags! Oh, the glory. However, quite frequently you'll find that there isn't quite enough water in the carafe for a second cup. At which point you've poured half a mug of water on your second tea bag, which cools off as you waiting to attract the attention of your server for more hot water. Hot tip: pour the second cup of water first. If it's insufficient, request a new carafe and a new cup that isn't half-full of tepid water.
Let's go back to that refreshment table at that conference. The one with the giant dispenser of hot-but-not-boiling water. There are people waiting next to you, and the five-minute break between talks is dwindling. What if you want cream in your tea? It's right there. Great, right? Well, no. Remember the recipe for tea. Temperature and steep time. Putting cream in at the same time as the tea bag reduces the water temperature. Dairy products are best kept at refrigerator temperature, after all. So, if the water was passably hot, now it isn't. Then, back in your uncomfortable chair about five minutes later, you remember that you're now stuck trying to find some place to put your wet tea bag that isn't rude. This is usually a hopeless task.
Lastly, let me introduce you to my mortal enemy. The lemon. Oh, how I loathe thee! For some reason, in restaurant school, everyone is taught that tea always comes with a slice of lemon. Well, it doesn't. Especially if I ask for cream. Most people know that dairy and citrus don't mix. Yet a slice of lemon inevitably arrives on my saucer. Usually, sitting directly on the tea bag! Infuriating isn't a strong enough word for it. A level-headed individual might think I'm being a bit of a victim here. Why don't I just say "no lemon" when ordering my tea? I do. I do. Every time. And guess what happens? I get a lemon. The same with ice water. I don't like lemon in my water. I like limes in my water, not lemon. I ask for limes, I get lemons. You don't have limes? Fine, I ask for no lemon. I get lemon. I've gotten lemon so many times when I've ordered limes that I've resorted to asking for "green limes." More than half the time, I still get lemons.
If you've stuck with me this far, thank you. Please raise awareness in your community. If you enjoy the satisfaction one receives from a great cup of coffee, know that there are others out there that get the same satisfaction from a perfect cup of tea.
shawn.milo@gmail.com