Today we welcome back the incredible Gail Carriger. One lucky commenter will win a prize pack including a copy of Blameless and a fan autographed by Gail.
Gail Carriger is the New York Times Bestselling author of the Parasol Protectorate series. She began writing in order to cope with being raised in obscurity by an expatriate Brit and an incurable curmudgeon. She escaped small town life and inadvertently acquired several degrees in Higher Learning. Ms. Carriger then traveled the historic cities of Europe, subsisting entirely on biscuits secreted in her handbag. She now resides in the Colonies, surrounded by fantastic shoes, where she insists on tea imported directly from London. The Parasol Protectorate books are: Soulless (Oct. 2009), Changeless (March 2010), Blameless (Sept. 2010), Heartless (July 2011), and Timeless (March 2012).
How to Make a Proper Pot of Tea
Being an Essay based on Hearsay, Family Tradition, and Opinionated Preferences
By Gail Carriger
Let us talk about tea. That great and fateful, that wonder of all
wonders, that calmest and most civilized of drinks. I have been
pleased to note, of late, it is making a comeback at steampunk events
in particular. At Nova Albion the ConSuite consisted of nothing but
tea and biscuits – as it should.
Let us not discuss the travesty that is iced tea, the mockery that is
Long Island iced tea, or that Thing that they do with all the sugar in
the South (you can’t see it, but I shudder at the very idea). Let us
not delve in to the wondrous exoticism of those foreign notions,
primordial and progenitive as they may be: white, green, oolong. Lets
us not even think about decaf, for oh, it really does taste
every-so-slightly of fish. Oh no, let us discuss the truth in tea, the
tea of my people, the dark, the honest, black tea.
My mother is an ex-pat, who brought with her very little, stayed for
40 odd years, and retains even less. However, she still has her
accent, and she still has her tea – every day at 4 pm, sometimes 5,
rain or shine. She has done this my whole life. When I was little, I
was permitted milk and a dash. Now I take it stronger than she, and I
have to reminder her, every time, to let it sit a bit longer for her
strangely evolved daughter.
I dabbled briefly in coffee during my rebellious college years and I have, upon occasion, tested my own will power by giving tea up
entirely, but I always returned to it. My safe haven. It is the taste
and the peace and the joy that draws me ever back, but it is also the ritual.
I brought a gentleman caller home to my mother’s several years ago. A
fine upstanding young man, large and Greek in appearance but very
American in sensibilities. In an effort to impress, after the tea was
finished he began to wash the dishes. My mother and I, chatting away
almost missed it. Almost. I saw him out of the corner of my eye. Mum
must have guessed, from the horror on my face, what he was about to
do.
He was going to wash the teapot!
It was like one of those slow motion cartoon moments. Mum and I, arms
pin wheeling out, agonized drawn out cries of “Noooooooo!” as we dove
towards him.
He didn’t drop the pot in surprise at our behavior, but it was a very
near thing. Fortunately, the soap covered scrubbing brush never
touched the vaunted and scared interior of that well cured teapot.
Thank goodness, for it was the work of decades.
A teapot should never be washed. You may swish it out with boiling
water. But it should never ever be washed. This is a teapot, by the
way, that is only used for black tea. You want to drink that appalling
herbal tisane stuff, use a different pot.
So how, in fact, does one brew a perfect cuppa?
My training is specific to my mother, as hers was to her grandmother, and so forth back as far as any of us can remember. It is not the
training of every tea drinker. And there have been, dare I say it, studies showing that not all the steps are necessary for taste, but who would trust scientists on such a religious matter as tea?
Here is how I do it.
Select a pot, a good china one, with a spout that does not drip, and a
lid that stays on. Most pots these days produce four mugs worth of
tea, but one should measure to see how many it takes.
Boil enough water for the pot and then some. Boil it! Boil. Swish a
dollop of the boiled water around inside the pot to heat it.
Choose a good quality loose leaf black tea. I prefer Twinings English
Breakfast Gold Label from England (not the red box American swill).
The quality of a tea can be determined by the smell (not too spicy)
and the taste (not too bitter) and the color (for EB a rich dark
chocolate brown with hints of rust when seeped) and the size and shape
of the leaf (generally larger is better).
Place a heaped tablespoon into the pot, one for each mug. If the pot
is a 6-er or larger, also include “one for the pot.” One learns the
quirks of each tea and each teapot and what relationship works best.
Add the recently boiled water. Fill the pot all the way, but not so
far it will spill when poured. Do not use one of those teapots with
the immersion cages. They do not allow for proper blending. Stick the
handle of a spoon in and give it a good couple stirs. Cap and cover
with a tea cozy.
Those who are to immersed it the culture of green teas will allow only
a three minute seeping. Those fancy tea timers are equally
precipitous. I have even had proprietors of tea shops, who should know
better, try to poor for me ahead of schedule. Oh, no no. I prefer a
five at least, but I like my tea strong.
Now, we move on to teacups instead of mugs. Tea always tastes better
out of a teacup, I feel, and allows one to drink it entirely before it
gets cold. Choose your cups and saucers with care, you want a nice
delicate rim, in makes sipping much more enjoyable.
Put the milk in first. Good quality whole milk, organic if possible,
un-pasteurized if risk is appealing. Lemon is only for the truly
quirky. Then poor the tea in after through a strainer. No sugar
please. A tea that requires sugar is not a very good tea. A person who
requires sugar is not a true tea drinker, they should be excused onto
something more banal. Raspberry cordial, perhaps?
A few words on etiquette.
The hostess always pours the tea for herself first, unlike most other
endeavors. This is because she should test the strength and quality upon her own pallet, and not subject her guest to weak tea, over-brewed tea, or spoiled milk.
To drink, one picks up both the cup and saucer, then raises the cup to drink with the free hand. No, the pinky is not stuck out. The cup is returned to the saucer without clinking.
Never dunk anything into your tea. All you end up with is crummy tea.
And one last moment of comedy. Should you over-brew your tea, my
friends and I refer to this as: strong enough for a mouse to run
across.
~Gail Carriger
What do you love most about tea? A favorite ritual? Memory? A love of teacups? One lucky commenter will win a prize pack including a copy of Blameless and a fan autographed by Gail. Open internationally, contest closes at 11:59 PM PST April 25, 2011
Good day to you, Gail.
I used to love to watch my great grandmother make tea. She had the prettiest tea cups. Of course as a little girl the one with the blue flowers on it was my favourite. It was so thin at the rim that you could see the light through it. She used to entertain the gentleman who lived across the hall from her and later in life, I would help set the try for her.
Thank you very much for sharing.
Cheers,
Jenn
My mother has never been a tea drinker (gasp!), but I do have wonderful memories of drinking tea with a beautiful lady who became a second mother to me. She made the tea in a pot that she had painted herself. If I remember correctly, the spout dripped slightly because of a minor flaw, but that made it all the more special. We would sit in her sunny breakfast nook and talk about anything and everything.
Thank-you, Gail, for bringing back that special memory this morning!
My husband is English and drinks what I understand is called “builder’s tea” — terrifyingly strong (usually PG Tips, though in the past it’s been Yorkshire Tea). I’ve recently joined a writers’ cooperative loft and have been rediscovering the joys of non-industrial strength black teas in their kitchen; thanks for the inspiration to bring it back into my home as well!
I had to laugh when you described that upstanding young man attempting to wash the pot. Heresy!:)
I love tea for its dependability. No matter what happens in life, happy, sad, exciting, terrifying, you can always sit down with a (strong) cup of tea and everything will be better afterwards.
Thank you for sharing.
Tina
…so you are saying that a “Proper Pot of Tea” does NOT involve heaping spoonfuls of instant tea powder?… Who knew?
Alas, I fear that I shall never be a proper tea drinker because I like mine iced AND sweetened. Blame my upbringing. I grew up in the South where there were only two kinds of tea: “tea,” iced and so sweet that you could feel the cavities forming in your teeth while you drank it, and “unsweetened tea,” iced but unsweetened for those peculiar Yankees. Preparing a separate batch of tea for Yankees produced fewer negative side effects than shooting at them because while most Yankees then and now don’t know how to shoot a gun,…
they learn pretty quickly.
What a fine article.
But afraid I come from the same land as Fred when is comes to tea consumption. Some folks her though do think that hot tea is good to have if one is ill.
Also, as a child I remember young men who had been to war in Asia, They might return with teas sets – some beautiful. All unpacked carefully, we looked at them to see all the details before they were rewrapped and stored.
This is a most instructive post! Tea for me is a ritual (every day at 4 pm) and I like it strong, too (no milk and no sugar).
My mother owns the most beautiful tea-cups (Paris Royal) I have ever seen, but sadly nobody is allowed to use them.
(Well….I do use them every time. It would be such a pity not to! What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?)
Thank you for your interesting post!
Good Afternoon Gail, I am a big fan of your books and am glad that through them I discovered a love for steampunk. Thanks.
Since my grandfather was British, we have always been tea drinkers but I do need my hot chocolate first thing in the morning. My favorite tea is Earl Grey byTwinnings and Harrod’s(Heritage Blend#42-loose or bags) and Fortnum & Mason’s Fruit & Herbal Infusions(Lemon & Ginger, Graperuit & Orange and Elderflower).
Hi Gail! I’m a big fan and thank you for introducing me to steampunk.
I had posted before but it disappeared.
My Grandfather was British so we’re all time tea drinkers but I love my hot chocolate first thing in the morning. I also love Earl Grey by Twinnings, Harrods #42 loose or bags and Fortnum & Mason’s Tea Infusions(Ginger & Lemon, Grapefruit & Orange and Elderflower).
Haha, I suppose that if you came to my house and saw how my family drinks tea you would be horribly offended by us 😀 we’ve broken every rule you laid down.
But my favorite memory of tea is at a Girl Scout mother-daughter tea party from back when I was in…oh, I don’t know, 3rd grade. Or maybe it was 2nd? Nonetheless, I spent that night with my mother, my sister, and a bunch of friends. No matter how hard I’ve tried, I’ve never been able to recreate the taste of the orange tea I had there. I suspect that most of it’s goodness came from the lovely company that night rather than the actual tea. Still, I’d love to relive that. It’s a fond memory I forgot about until you brought the subject up, and I’m glad you did.
I’ve been wondering how Gail makes her tea. I’ve just started drinking a lot of tea recently and I know I’m definitely not making it the proper way. I favorite teas are Darjeerling and Ceylon Orange Pekoe by Twinnings with some Agave Nectar.
I really don’t have an established tea ritual and no one in my family is a tea drinker. I just have to make sure I drink it early enough in the day so it doesn’t keep me up all night.
Thanks for sharing this with us!
@ECote2
Being an avid sencha addict (do keep the awful bottled/boxed stuff away from me), the Ritual is a daily friend, though due to personal preferrences of mass I brew it directly in a gigantic o.7l cup. The quality is amazing! Not a mug, a cup.
Lately I’ve started to scream/whistle/tweet “Tea o’clock!” whenever it’s time for another go.
Ahaha, a mouse to run across? We call it a spoon being able to stand upright in it. Mostly used for homemade coffee though.
Wonderful post:)
I do love tea. I use The Husband’s grandparent’s tea set that we inherited. Good black tea and HobNob biscuits are a favorite.
Thank you for sharing. Do you have a favorite teapot?
Rebecca
I drink tea, but with a number of sad American shortcuts. I have a 5 gallon water dispenser that does hot water and we use tea bags — though I have moved from the sad American red box Twinings English Breakfast to the also sad American Ceylon. And I use the gigantic Venti mug I picked up from Starbucks. Though that mug has been well-seasoned. (Oh the humanity!)
🙂
What a wonderful post to wake up to this morning. I do drink tea. When my sister and I were little we used to make tea at around 4 every afternoon. We must have heard or read about that tradition somewhere and thought it romantic.
Flash forward, I’m nearly 40 and I still make tea many afternoons. Since it’s usually just me, I have a small tea spoon, one of those that you press the handle and the jaws open up to grab a scoop full of tea leaves. Then you pour hot water over it and let it steep in your cup.
I will try it your way in the pot.
Thank you!
My father used to drink tea with his (very German) grandfather, and tells that he (the grandfather) let it steep for 2 hours. My father has been ruined to any other tea since and refuses every offer.
My mother’s mother, Irish as she was, drank only tea and never coffee (though a nightcap of blackberry brandy was necessary whilst reading her Agatha Christie novels). And so, my mother grew up loving tea. Alas, after marrying my father, with his aversion to all but his grandfather’s tea, my mother moved instead towards (very bad) coffee.
Enter one of my best friends, Anglophile that she is, who adores tea, drinks tea, and most importantly, KNOWS tea. Thus began my initiation into the Tea Drinkers of the World* and my education.
To this day (not very long after the aforementioned initiation) a cuppa still reminds me of rainy afternoons sitting on my friend’s cosy porch by a park in Indiana. Thanks to this, my mother has rediscovered her love of tea. My father, I fear, is a lost soul.
Might I add that I prefer a touch of cream if available, rather than milk.
*If that isn’t an actual coterie, it should be.
I sadly, am baffled and intrigued by tea. I was never taught how to brew a cuppa, and I admit my forays into tea have consisted of microwaved mugs and tea bags, shameful, yes. However, armed with this knowledge I do plan to remedy my previous crass attempts. And so for this knowledge I thank you very kindly.
Ms. Carriger, I adore your Parasol Protectorate series and am a loyal follower of your blog. I myself am American born and bred (though I like to believe that my soul is British); what’s worse is that I, like several other commenters, was raised a southerner. As a child I was given the sugar-water that Southerners call tea on a daily basis, but I was a rebel even then as I preferred to pour myself a glass of the freshly brewed tea before it could have a chance to cool. My family found this quite odd.
I just recently moved out on my own and acquired my own mis-matched tea set courtesy of some great local thrift shops. Thank you for the tip about not washing the tea pot, I’d never heard this before. I also prefer Twinings EB though I’m frequently given much more exotic teas by well-wishing friends and family. I must confess that I still take sugar in my tea (Southern, as I said) though I’ve been slowly using less and less in my ongoing quest for the perfect cuppa.
This has turned out to be much longer than intended so I will stop here and simply express my gratitude and warm wishes. I look forward to the release of Heartless this summer.
Kandis
Oh dear, I was so looking forward to Heartless but now I’ll have to cancel it and burn your other books as I prepare for holy war. I was happily reading the article, nodding occasionally, until I came across the fell sentence “Put the milk in first.” from there on you were as nothing to me.
I will return to proper authors like George Orwell and Nancy Mitford who understand these things, and you, young lady, should reflect on what you’ve said.
In one brief brilliantly written post you brought back so many memories of my London=born mother and her natural to her but unnatural to so many others ways of handling the ritual of tea. Of course, no washing up with soap, who could consider such a horror? And the very same ritual of warming the pot with boiled water. Some of my favorite items I inherited form her are her tea cozies – which I love for their sense of comfort and protection of the tea, almost as much as her teapots. Luckily, my daughter, too has collected teapots and we both prefer Twinings over any other brands of tea. Thanks for your affirmation of one of the subtle graces of the world – a ritual which both calms and binds generations together.
My British-Canadian relatives despair of me. I do drink tea, but prefer the fruity or herb-flavored ones. Green tea with mint, Earl Grey, black tea with cherry, white with mango. So many varieties, so little time. No milk, no sugar, but if it’s plain tea, I can make do with a squeeze of lemon or a dash of cinnamon.
I know, I’m an odd duck, but there you have it. Lovely post!
I moved to the South almost two years ago, and no one warned me of the horror that is Sweet Tea. Foolishly, I assumed this meant “sweetened” tea, not “dip a tea bag into a vat of liquid sugar. *shudders*
The memory of that first sip and having to choke it down instead of spitting it out (as I was at a work function) haunts me to this very day.
I love tea. Then again, I’m British so it’s a given. I have to have tea at least twice a day; when I wake up and before I go to sleep. It doesn’t keep me awake, it’s soothing rather than anything else. I used to have sugar with it but not anymore. It really does ruin it for me. I have it in a big mug rather than a small cup; those are reserved for guests. Nothing better than curling up with a cup of tea and a good book. Thanks for the international contest! Would love to read this.
god, i don’t know where to begin. i have so many fond memories of tea – round table Chinese dinners, always accompanied by pots of tea, usually a finely-aged, deeply-flavoured Pu Er or Tie Guan Yin (Iron Avalokiteśvara). i remember visiting a tea factory in HangZhou where they grew and harvested light, tender Long Jing (Dragon Well), and its very many uses (after brewing many pots from a few teaspoons, one could, for instance, mix it with an egg white and use it as a face mask). then there was Long Jing mochi, with a paste-filling made of the same tea. and then numerous pots of Japanese tea, sencha or mugicha (barley tea), and then hours spent pottering away in the kitchen making matcha madeleines and matcha panna cotta. my sister, who whisks up awesome matcha soy latte with honey. a recent family road trip to Ipoh, a town in Malaysia, where i found some of the best soft-serve matcha ice cream, mild and creamy and grassy and bitter and not too sweet.
also, an incident i remember as The Purloining of Tea, or Tea Thieving: we went on a cruise once, and they served up fantastic Mighty Leaf Tea of various types. it was self-service, and we (two of my sisters and i) purloined – okay, nicked – quite a few extra tea bags for home consumption. in addition to the 5 or 7 cups a day we drank, from Sweden to Russia to Denmark.
i guess this makes me a relatively bad person. but what i’m trying to say is, i guess, is that tea, for me, is both communal and personal, and always associated with family and sharing food with people 🙂
(oh yeah and one of my favourite books is The Book of Tea, a semi-pompous ramble on the ins and outs of Japanese tea ceremony. kind of glorious, that book. :))
contest closed. Thanks for entering!