‘How do you like your tea?’
On RTÉ News today, a weather expert spoke about the devastation and inconvenience of power-cuts caused by the storm. In the midst of all the harm done through electricity outages, the man remarked, ‘and of course the cup of tea is vital in Ireland!’.
The British are known for their love of tea, although England was actually a late comer to the tea tasting thing. Tea has been around for a long time and originated in China in the third millennium BC, but did not arrive on British shores until the 17th century. For a long time afterwards, the beverage we know and love was the preserve of the fashionably wealthy before becoming the favourite relaxation of the working classes.
While English people continued to enjoy their tea over the last few hundred years, we Irish adopted the ‘cuppa’ as part of our own way of life and soon surpassed our neighbours’ consumption of the golden brew. Only Turkey drinks more tea than Ireland.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ has to be one of the most welcoming queries ever invented in the English language. Whether the ceist is directed towards a family member, friend, neighbour or random caller, there is something so lovely and wholesome about those few words. It shows that people care about you and want to share a little more than ‘the time of day’. It can take the harm out of something said before, or offer a hand going forward to the future.
I told you before of an offer of a cup of tea that will always stay with me as it demonstrates the decency of the people we meet. I was out canvassing for myself in a local election. At one house I called to, after the usual small talk, the elderly couple told me they wouldn’t vote for me because they never voted for anyone outside the party they supported. I thanked them for their time, their honesty and for the chat. With that, the woman turned to me and asked; ‘would you like a cup of tea?’!.
‘We’ll put the kettle on’ has exactly the same cordial connotation. There may be a bit of a problem hanging in the air, a slight difference of opinion or a tricky job going on, but ‘we’ll put the kettle on’ sets a refocus after a break to tackle the world again.
The next ceist which invariably follows for callers to the house after the ‘tea is wet’ is: ‘how do you like your tea?’. We don’t have to explain that one to anybody and the operation usually concludes with; ‘I’ll let you milk it yourself.’
Most Irish people don’t appreciate indifferent sorts of tea. While I know a few erroneous unfortunates who like their tea weak, the real tea drinkers – the vast majority – favour ‘a decent cup of tea.’ A decent cup of tea shows the colour of the tea and not that of the milk added. Long before teabags were invented, tea was made in our house by putting a fistful of tealeaves into the pot and adding the boiling water and allowing it to draw for five or 10 minutes.
I often watched my father make his tea in a cup by throwing this handful of tea leaves straight into it and letting it stew. There was never a spoon used in the tea canister in our house and as was often said; ‘you could trot a mouse on it’.
As a self confessed coffee addict, it may surprise you to read this tea tribute. I had tea before I had coffee and great times with tea as well. Back in the day, if you took a girl home from a dance and she asked you in for tea, you didn’t care much as to whether there was any sugar or milk in the house! I still love my cup of tea and even if I do drink a dozen mugs of coffee in the day, I also enjoy copious cups of tea as well.
It is not imagination that Irish tea is the best in the world. Blenders like Barry’s and Lyons know what we like. They source their teas from East African and Assamese plantations for strong, robust black tea favoured in Irish blends.
Rationing of tea was an awful problem during the war. It was worse than the shortage of cigarettes or anything else. I heard the story, over and over, of the day that Daddy bought a half pound of black market tea at the fair in Oldcastle for an extortionist sum of money, only to find it was nothing but dried hedge leaves when he got home!
It was after the war that Ireland moved from importing tea from China and India to buying the stronger breeds from Kenya. As we have already mentioned, the stronger tea blends better with milk… so, how do you like your tea…?
Don’t Forget
Work is the meat of life; pleasure, the dessert.