What is it about American eating establishments and Tea? A rant.

I do not drink coffee. Never have. Love the smell of it, but can't stand the taste.

Tea, however, is a must. We were brought up with it. My aunt use to make it for us kids with lots of milk and lots of sugar and not too hot.

Now I usually drink it black with sugar. But milk, or cream, does occasionally make an appearance.

I almost (99% of the time) always start my day with a cuppa, usually putting the kettle on as I turn on lights in the kitchen.

A cup always leaves the house with me as I go to work (or for that matter, anywhere), all four seasons.

During cold weather tea is a staple all day. In summer, drinking hot tea ends after a couple cups, with me trading off for ice tea or diet soda later in the day.

My go to tea is PG Tips. Decaf most of the time (it is the only decaf I have found that I can call tea).
Many a morning I trade off a PG Tips for an English or Irish Breakfast tea. Twining's usually.
I have also started using a 'Builder's' tea in the mornings when I am out at the cabin.

Famous naturalist John Muir many times went hiking with nothing put a thermos of tea and bread. Perfect!

I have accepted an Earl Grey as drinkable and will sometimes still have one after having it be the only tea that was brought along on an 18 day Grand Canyon kayak/raft trip.
( I had told the man planning the trip that I did not drink coffee, a staple for outdoor trips, and that I was pretty picky about my tea, I offered to get my own so as not to make it hard on him, but he said no, it was okay and not a problem and that he would get a good tea. He proceeded to buy a big mix of different Earl Grey's thinking that Earl Grey was the brand and not the type. When I want to think about the Grand Canyon trip I make myself a cuppa Earl Grey.)

I like my tea strong, dark and with some sugar. And like I said earlier, sometimes with cream or milk.

I don't like "flavored'" teas; raspberry, Jasmine or any of her cousins.
Oolong is okay if I am having Chinese for dinner, but I still check to see if they have something darker.

A perfect afternoon for me is to sit in the one tea room St Louis has and have a scone, a pot of tea and read a book. (It doesn't happen often enough).

You could, and I am okay with it, call me a tea snob. I am after all a beer and bread snob already, so an accusation of another form of snobbery is okay.

With all that said, it probably is not hard for you to imagine that when we go out for breakfast, while my table mates are ordering coffee, I am the lone tea drinker.

I get it, coffee is a morning ritual for if not most, many Americans. And I also get it that there is different coffees and that everyone has their own preferences.

But at most breakfast type places the coffee making is habit, and the pots are emptied so quickly that most pots are served hot, fresh and often.

But if you order tea you are many times treated like a second class citizen.

Most times I have to send the water back to have it 'nuked' to make, I was going to say hotter, but instead I will say make it hot in the first place.

Although not a coffee drinker, as has been stated, I would assume the best coffee is made with real hot, boiling water.

But many, most?, restaurants don't understand that about tea. The water has to boil. (Most friends are surprised at how hot I can drink my tea, not that I try to prove anything by that fact. Just sayin')

 

We tea drinkers are not treated like the coffee drinkers.

Neither in quality or temperature.
And definitely not in quantity.

Most tea served over here in restaurants is Lipton's, or something real close to a 'Lipton' type tea.
Now, don't get me wrong, if Lipton's is served HOT and allowed to steep the whole time you drink it, it is very drinkable, and much better than some off brands. (Okay, till I found a better, it was my go to tea.)

Occasionally you will get a better tea, but in those cases the water is so tepid that the quality of the tea is lost. It doesn't matter how good your tea is if I can't steep properly.

There are some restaurant chains over here that I won't even bother ordering hot tea in because the chain is universally bad at making hot water (Denny's).

Their are some chains where I know the water will be good and hot but the brand of tea they carry is pretty bad. So in those cases I always bring in a couple bags I always keep stored in my truck. I am okay with supplying my own tea after my Grand Canyon experience and I appreciate the fact that their water is hot.


Another thing. While with most restaurants the coffee cup is bottomless, every time the server passes by they either fill your cup automatically or at least ask if you would like more.

With tea drinkers, at best you will be asked if you would like more tepid water poured on top of your already used tea bag.

Most times you have to ask for more water (nuke it please) and another tea bag.
And you really feel bad if you are enjoying sitting and talking to your wife over a late breakfast and she is on her eighth cup of coffee and you have to ask for a third tea bag.

Supply and demand I guess.

But occasionally you will be surprised.

Having an eleven year old child, over the last couple of years we have gone to a Disney theme park a few times. And once you do that, at least for a little while, you get all kind of mailings from Disney. Being big fans of anything Disney we are for the most part okay with that.

In every issue of one of their bigger magazines they usually talk to someone who helps make the park special. In one issue they talked to one of their head chef's. And he made a very fine point about treating tea drinks as well as drinkers of other beverages. Even going into the best way he believes it should be served. Another reason to love things Disney.

Another surprise I have found is that on rare occasions you will find a good tea in surprising places (it doesn't happen often).

Case in point, Waffle House. Breakfast is my favorite meal to eat out, especially if you have a favorite place to get it. While Waffle House does not fit that bill, I do enjoy their biscuits and gravy, and omelets. So once every couple of weeks, or when I head out early to the cabin, I will stop in at one of three Waffle Houses I have to pass on the way to the cabin (or work).
99% of the time their water is good and hot. And I am also surprised that they use a pretty good brand of tea. At least the ones near me use a brand called Royal Cup, and I have come to look forward to it when I visit a Waffle House near me.

Rare indeed is finding a place with hot water and a good tea.

I will always keep tea bags in my truck. I will order something else at the places that just can't get it right. And I will savor the places that do get it right (The London Tea Room, St Louis and Waffle House).

But please, you may not love us tea drinkers as much, but try to treat us the same.

There . . . . I got that out of my system.

As a Tea lover, I can believe this. . . .

THE YEAR BRITAIN BOUGHT UP ALL THE TEA IN THE WORLD

Published on June 23, 2016

by Peter GW Keen

No one example captures how deeply tea drinking was embedded in the fabric of British everyday life than the decision of the government in 1942 to buy up every available pound of tea from every country in the world except Japan.

Britain faced defeat by the Axis powers of Germany and Japan. Its troops had been forced to make a complete withdrawal from Europe, leaving it open to an expected and narrowly avoided invasion. The “impregnable” fortress of Singapore had fallen, essentially ending Britain’s colonial dominance of Asia. Britain was close to broke, as its reserves were drained to keep imports flowing in as Atlantic convoys were hunted and often destroyed by U-boats. The US had not yet mobilized its massive manufacturing capabilities, post Pearl Harbor.

And Britain was buying tea!

In huge amounts. One estimate is that the largest government purchases in 1942 were, in order of weight, bullets, tea, artillery shells, bombs and explosives.

The German High Command fully understood the importance of disrupting the tea chain. One of the primary targets for the sustained bombing of London in 1941, known as the Blitz, was Mincing Lane, “The Street of Tea.” This had been the center for the disgraceful opium trade that pumped masses of the drug into China to obtain the silver that was the only currency the Chinese government would accept for purchase of tea: feeding an addiction to fund an addiction.

Mincing Lane did not store tea but was the repository for just about all the records of 30 million tonnes of stocks, trades and finances destroyed by the bombing. That is when the government moved into action. Almost all foods and clothing items were rationed; this lasted until 1952, seven years after the war had ended. The weekly allowance was two ounces of butter and cheese, eight of sugar, four of bacon. And two ounces of tea, enough to make three cups a day, a far less stringent ration than cheese, for instance.

BRITAIN’S SECRET WEAPON

One historian summarized tea as Britain’s secret weapon in the War. It was certainly one of its most visible symbols of national unity. Like such patriotic images, there were many strands of sentimentality and myth in the stories of how tea was a social binding force in the days of the London Blitz where, night after night, fires blazed from bombed buildings, women and children huddled in the underground railway tunnels and the air raid sirens were a daily threnody. The cheery Cockney and famous stiff upper lip were by no means as evident as folk memory and films suggest.

That said, tea was powerful symbolically and practically. Churchill is reputed to have called tea more important than ammunition. He ordered that all sailors on ships have unlimited tea.

Its perceived value in boosting morale not just in Britain is illustrated by the Royal Air Force dropping 75,000 tea bombs in a single night over the occupied Netherlands. Each contained one ounce bags of tea from the Dutch East Indies and was marked “The Netherlands will rise again. Chins up.” Every one of the 20 million Red Cross packages sent to prisoners of war contained a quarter pound package of Twinings.

Tea helped restore at least a semblance of calm and normality in turbulence and danger. Its essence is that it is warm and comforting. It also provided an egalitarian sharing space in a society of rigid class distinctions. In the air raids, local Air Raid Wardens and Auxiliaries, mostly women, served tea to anyone, forming huddles, bringing strangers together, and providing a center for medical help.

A Teakettle in a Tank

Tea was a key factor in weaponry, too. In WW I, the “Tommies” were known to fire off their machine guns in a nonstop stream of bullets to get the barrels hot enough to immerse in water to get that hot enough for tea. The Germans noticed this, of course, just as they did the easy target made by tank crews leaving the safety of their vehicles for a brew-up. (Typically, they made an improvised “Benghazi burner” from empty fuel cans.)

The solution was to incorporate a BV (Boiling Vessel) inside the turret. Yes, that is indeed a Teakettle in a Tank. It has been a required feature in all UK (and Indian) army AFVs (Armored Fighting Vehicles) for the past seventy years. The latest is designated as “FV706656.” It is still standard practice for a junior member of a vehicle crew to be unofficially appointed “BV Commander” with the duty to make hot drinks for the crew.

The decision to upgrade the Challenger in 2014 maintained the BV requirement. This is one of the most successful tanks in military history, the best protected and with lowest battle losses. It served in combat in the Balkan, Iraq and Afghanistan – with the BV in daily use.

This all sounds like the spirit of Monty Python and British fuddy-duddy, but it made strategic sense. Tea was a social necessity, especially for the working class. And it was important to the war effort. The Army at rest was groups of soldiers around a metal tea bucket of, typically, six gallons. That applied to all ranks in all units.

“Gunfire”

Tea played a critical role in the British Army, with many historians attributing at least part of its success in the almost never-ending military campaigns, many of them small colonial policing actions. One of the keys that distinguished it from every other European fighting force was that its embedding or tea in its routines greatly reduced the reliance on alcohol to calm troops as they prepared for battle, relax them at its end and keep them sober and alert while they sat around waiting. One of the slang terms soldiers used for their morning tea was “Gunfire.”

The tea itself was not quite gourmet. It was very strong, all from Assam, Ceylon and Africa. China and Japan were not sourcing options; by the end of the war, China’s exports that once comprised almost all the global market were close to zero. Japan had been the leading supplier to the US but obviously was no longer a preferred supplier.

Army tea came as part of the soldier’s composite rations kit. Compo tea was in a tin, with milk and sugar pre-added. The food components of compo are best summarized as somewhat strange, with no further comment. The tea was basic and bulk shipped. There were constant rumors that bromide had been added to it, to reduce young males’ erotic interests; that gives a sense of what it tasted like. Soldiers reported that when hot it was welcome and pleasant but the surface took on the appearance of an unskimmed pool when it was lukewarm.

Napoleon famously said that an army marches on its stomach. His own military needed to transport loads of heavy wine. They also had to forage for food, a euphemism for looting. Tea had the advantage of being light and portable. It contained important nutritional minerals. Sweetened by sugar, it was heartening and provided an energy boost. Caffeine combined both a pick me up and calm me down effect.

One of the central reasons for the explosive growth in tea consumption in the UK in the 1700s was that water was such a danger that it had to be avoided. Figures show a strong correlation among the general population between tea and reduction in dysentery and bacterial infections. It also reduced infant mortality, since the antiseptic properties of tea were passed on to breast milk.  

War in Assam: the Kohima turning point

There was a hidden price for the morale-boosting benefits of tea in World War II. It was mostly paid, somewhat ironically, by the workers of the tea gardens in Assam and ordinary Indians. Production in Assam and Ceylon was boosted to meet the needs of Britain, with heavy reliance on US merchant ships. India’s political organizations were split on the issue of supporting the military effort, with nationalist strongly opposed. However, the population of Assam was pulled into the conflict once Rangoon, the capital of Burma, surrendered to the Japanese. (Now Yangon, Myanmar). Throughout 1942, it was expected that Japanese troops would invade Northern India via the only two narrow passes through the Himalayas. Tea workers were conscripted to carve a supply path. Thousands died.

The Indian Army of 2.5 million was the largest volunteer force in history. Assam was also the base for the most dangerous air route in the world: the Hump that transported US supplies to China’s army fighting the Japanese. It was also central to the large Burma war theater and the site of the Battle of Kohima, which marked a crucial turning point.

The complex and protected Kohima-Imphal campaign led to the annihilation of the Japanese forces and reconquest of Burma; half its hundred thousand troops were casualties and it lost every single tank and artillery gun. The nature of the terrain is indicated by the deaths of 17,000 mules and ponies.

One regrettable aspect of writing on the history of “English tea in India is that it very much tends to showcase the English and overlook the Indian.                

”The simple act of being able to share a mug of tea”

Tea branding and marketing has always played up the peaceful side of its history and social context: medicine and health, spirituality and contemplation, and refinement and snobbery. These are real but a whole book or two can be written about its martial dynamics.

Tea and war have always gone together. The origins of its trade routes and its becoming a de facto currency for a thousand years comes from the urgent needs of the Chinese army to obtain horses from the tribes of Nepal and Tibet. In turn, they sought out tea for its immense value as a beverage that could help nourish them in their harsh climate, rather like Bolivian Indians chewing coca to suppress hunger pangs and give them extra energy in the high mountains.

A quote from an article in the UK Daily Tea in 2014 captures this dual nature of tea. It’s from a soldier reminiscing about his service in the early 2000s: “When you’re wet, cold and miserable, and feel that you need to curl up and die from tiredness,… you may be covered in mud, stinking from not being able to shower for days or weeks, cold and tired, but a brew seems to take all that away. The jokes will start and morale gets better. The simple act of being able to share a mug of tea with your mates, who look and feel just as bad as you do, is awesome.”

1942 was a pivotal year in history. Britain survived. Tea helped.

George Orwell's other great work.

George Orwell

A Nice Cup of Tea

If you look up ‘tea’ in the first cookery book that comes to hand you will probably find that it is unmentioned; or at most you will find a few lines of sketchy instructions which give no ruling on several ofthe most important points.

This is curious, not only because tea is one of the main stays ofcivilization in this country, as well as in Eire, Australia and New Zealand, but because the best manner of making it is the subject ofviolent disputes.

When I look through my own recipe for the perfect cup of tea, I findno fewer than eleven outstanding points. On perhaps two of them there would be pretty general agreement, but at least four others areacutely controversial. Here are my own eleven rules, every one ofwhich I regard as golden:

First of all, one should use Indian or Ceylonese tea. China teahas virtues which are not to be despised nowadays — it is economical, and one can drink it without milk — but there is not much stimulation in it. One does not feel wiser, braver or more optimistic after drinking it. Anyone who has used that comforting phrase ‘a nice cup oftea’ invariably means Indian tea. Secondly, tea should be made in small quantities — that is, in a teapot. Tea out of an urn is always tasteless, while army tea, made ina cauldron, tastes of grease and whitewash. The teapot should be madeof china or earthenware. Silver or Britanniaware teapots produceinferior tea and enamel pots are worse; though curiously enough apewter teapot (a rarity nowadays) is not so bad. Thirdly, the pot should be warmed beforehand. This is better done by placing it on the hob than by the usual method of swilling it outwith hot water. Fourthly, the tea should be strong. For a pot holding a quart, ifyou are going to fill it nearly to the brim, six heaped teaspoonswould be about right. In a time of rationing, this is not an idea thatcan be realized on every day of the week, but I maintain that onestrong cup of tea is better than twenty weak ones. All true tea loversnot only like their tea strong, but like it a little stronger witheach year that passes — a fact which is recognized in the extra rationissued to old-age pensioners. Fifthly, the tea should be put straight into the pot. No strainers, muslin bags or other devices to imprison the tea. In some countries teapots are fitted with little dangling baskets under the spout to catch the stray leaves, which are supposed to be harmful. Actually one can swallow tea-leaves in considerable quantities without ill effect, and if the tea is not loose in the potit never infuses properly. Sixthly, one should take the teapot to the kettle and not the other way about. The water should be actually boiling at the moment of impact, which means that one should keep it on the flame while one pours. Some people add that one should only use water that has been freshly brought to the boil, but I have never noticed that it makes any difference. Seventhly, after making the tea, one should stir it, or better, give the pot a good shake, afterwards allowing the leaves to settle. Eighthly, one should drink out of a good breakfast cup — that is,the cylindrical type of cup, not the flat, shallow type. The breakfastcup holds more, and with the other kind one’s tea is always half coldbefore one has well started on it. Ninthly, one should pour the cream off the milk before using itfor tea. Milk that is too creamy always gives tea a sickly taste. Tenthly, one should pour tea into the cup first. This is one ofthe most controversial points of all; indeed in every family inBritain there are probably two schools of thought on the subject. The milk-first school can bring forward some fairly strong arguments, butI maintain that my own argument is unanswerable. This is that, by putting the tea in first and stirring as one pours, one can exactlyregulate the amount of milk whereas one is liable to put in too muchmilk if one does it the other way round. Lastly, tea — unless one is drinking it in the Russian style — should be drunk without sugar. I know very well that I am in aminority here. But still, how can you call yourself a true tea-lover ifyou destroy the flavour of your tea by putting sugar in it? It wouldbe equally reasonable to put in pepper or salt. Tea is meant to bebitter, just as beer is meant to be bitter. If you sweeten it, you areno longer tasting the tea, you are merely tasting the sugar; you couldmake a very similar drink by dissolving sugar in plain hot water.

Some people would answer that they don’t like tea in itself, that they only drink it in order to be warmed and stimulated, and they need sugar to take the taste away. To those misguided people I would say: Try drinking tea without sugar for, say, a fortnight and it is very unlikely that you will ever want to ruin your tea by sweetening it again.

These are not the only controversial points to arise in connexion with tea drinking, but they are sufficient to show how subtilized the whole business has become. There is also the mysterious social etiquette surrounding the teapot (why is it considered vulgar to drink out of your saucer, for instance?) and much might be written about the subsidiary uses of tealeaves, such as telling fortunes, predicting the arrival of visitors, feeding rabbits, healing burns and sweeping thecarpet. It is worth paying attention to such details as warming the pot and using water that is really boiling, so as to make quite sureof wringing out of one’s ration the twenty good, strong cups of thattwo ounces, properly handled, ought to represent.

1946

THE END