Malachi McCormick vented frequently about the difficult of finding a decent cup of tea, and I really feel that this tea would make him proud. The sweet, malty notes typical of Assams waft airily from the cup. The strong liquor boasts flavors of honeyed toast supported by boldness familiar with low grade Keemuns.
A little excerpt from Malachi’s book:
“Tea?” inquired my host. “Lovely idea,” I said. Then came the bad news: “Rose Hip or Sleepy Time?” My darkened countenance went unnoticed: “Oh, I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
A venerable old black cast iron teapot caught my eye. Like a ‘senior citizen’ to a nursing home, it had long been retired, and now stood mute on a shelf, its mouth stuffed with dyed dried flowers. We both – the pot and I – looked on helplessly as my host poured hot (hot boiling) water onto herbal teabags placed in (unscalded) mugs.
I ran screaming from the house! Well, actually, no, I didn’t: I stood my ground, but hoping that this mug would pass. Later, while visiting my mother in Ireland, she told me things were pretty bad on her side of the Atlantic as well.
To cut a long long story short, the Decent Cup of Tea movement was born soon after. (By the way, ownership of this book automatically puts you on Active Reserve: we will be in touch.)
“The best thing to do, when you’ve got a dead body and it’s your husband’s on the kitchen floor and you don’t know what to do about it, is to make yourself a good strong cup of tea.” -Anthony Burgess
Stay tuned for more from the book next time we drink a decent cup of tea!