The perfect mug of tea
Farmers enjoying tea and sandwiches at a sale of weanlings at the Aurivo Mart in Ballinrobe during the Covid-19 pandemic in 2021. Picture: Frank Dolan
While the cup of tea seems at first glance to be uniquely Irish, it is in fact, very un-Irish. The loose leaves that found their way into tea canisters on the mantlepieces of old Ox Mountain cottages, were once green shoots, growing on warm slopes in countries as far away as India and Cylon.
The origins and history of tea date back almost 5,000 years and it now has more than 3,000 different variations. It is the most widely consumed beverage in the world and has an unrivalled historical and cultural significance.
When I hear the word ‘plantation’, I think of colonial powers, wealthy landowners and slaves. Were tea plantations any different? As tea began to grow in popularity in the late 1700s, it was quickly seen as a profitable crop, capable to creating great wealth, much like sugar, coffee and tobacco had previously proved.
Tea plantations sprang up in India, Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), and eventually East Africa. Tea was introduced to India by the British in the early nineteenth century to break a Chinese monopoly. The first area to be planted was the mountain region surrounding the city of Darjeeling, in the Himalayan foothills. A History of Cylon Tea gives a good account of how the tea industry developed in that particular country decades later.
The plantation era of Ceylon began with the British opening up thousands of acres of fertile land. It was just a matter of clearing the forest, no simple task, but carried out efficiently given the limitations of that era. The tea-growing industry in the hill country of Ceylon was almost exclusively dominated by British interests in the period up to independence in 1948.
Palais des Thés (The Tea Palace), based in Paris, provide information that helps us to understand more about tea and how it is cultivated. They explain that tea trees may be pruned and shaped for up to 50 years. Over this time, the tea plants become dwarf-like and form strange plantations, a mixture of vibrant green cover and miniature forests.
Colonial powers, with money to invest and with large populations at home seeking new tastes, were quick to cash in. Easily acquired lands, cheap labour and monopolised transportation routes completed the equation and soon supplies of affordable tea were everywhere.
While at first, tea was a fashionable treat, it soon became available to the masses. Tea drinking was first a British tradition but later, the Irish embraced tea like no other nation. Soon we had our own tea companies catering to our own particular tastes.
When freshly picked, tea leaves are green. They are then left to wither naturally before being further dried to become the black tea we are most familiar with. At this stage the tea is packed for shipping and is only blended later, usually in the country of sale. From the early days, tea arrived in Ireland in bulk; large tea chests held the precious cargo. The conventional tea chest is a foil-lined box with an approximate size of a half metre square. The traditional construction was of very thin wood held at the edges with metal strips.
When a tea chest arrived in a shop, it was often the boring job of the boy ‘serving his time’ to open the chest and bag off the contents into half-pound brown paper bags for retail sale. The bags were carefully weighed and then secured with a string binding and placed on the shop shelf. Such bags had no markings; no country of origin and no best before date. This half-pound package was an eagerly sought item, however, and was top of everyone’s weekly shopping list. Eventually, when it arrived home, it was tipped into the tea canister on the mantelpiece – the safest and driest place in the house.
There are two things that make for the perfect cup of tea; one is how it is brewed and the other is the setting in which it is enjoyed. Let us see what the experts have to say about the perfect brew. Yorkshire Tea, the kings of British tea, suggest the following method. In the interests of nostalgia, the method uses loose tea rather than tea bags.
Picture this… A man cycles each day to the bog that is just a short distance from our house. He has travelled about five miles, making his way along the hilly roads at the base of Knocknashee. Apart from a pitch-fork and a turf spade that he has tied along the bar of his bike, he has on his carrier an old string shopping bag containing his rations for the day. They consist of a few cuts of buttered soda bread, a small bottle of milk, a half dozen eggs and two little mustard tins - one containing sugar, the other, loose tea. Swinging on his handlebars is a gallon tin can. He also has with him an old soot-marked burner and a large tea-stained mug.
After he passes our house, he stops at our well and fills his tin can with spring water. He walks the last few hundred yards to the bog to ensure he doesn’t spill the water. Arriving on the turf bank, he sets aside his bag of food and his can of water. He then commences the solitary work of cutting and spreading the turf he will need for the following winter and spring.
At noon, he leaves his work to gather a few bits to kindle a fire; strong heather branches, clods from last year and a few dry black sods to give heart to his fire. As the fire matures, he pours half the spring water into the old burner and places it on the fire. When it comes to the boil, he wets his tea in the mug. He puts three eggs in the remaining water in the burner and replaces it on the little fire. In the time it takes his eggs to boil, his tea is drawn.
While waiting, he sits back and enjoys a Gold Flake, lit with a coal from the fire. When he is ready, he adds the full of the palm of his hand of sugar to the tea, together with a dash of milk. He tops his eggs and eats them one by one, accompanied by the cuts of soda bread, all washed down with generous draughts of sweet tea. Finally, he savours each remaining mouthful of tea as he smokes another Gold Flake. There was never a more perfect mug of tea.
