Over the years I have become a fairly confident person in the kitchen except in one area. I break into a cold sweat when I think I might have to make tea. In my defense, neither hubby nor I know what tea is supposed to taste like. To our palates it tastes foul. So when we make it and do the taste test we have no way of knowing if what we are tasting is a good foul or a bad foul. We just know it is foul.
Hubby is part of a Celtic Choir. He invited the choir to our house last night after their performance. Everyone in the choir is of British descent and most of them are older than hubby. What would I do? I just had to serve tea. For this crowd it’s a staple. Well I asked a dear friend (you know, the kind of friend who never scoffs nor snickers) and she guided me through the process. She loaned me her tea pot and slowly recited her instructions .
“Just put three tea bags in the bottom of the pot. Fill the pot with boiling water. Leave it for five minutes and then scoop the tea bags out.”
“Do you want me to come and make it for you?” she asked.
I swallowed hard while building up my courage. “No I can do this. I’ve been on earth over fifty years and I do have a university degree.”
Being the organized person that I am, I knew I wouldn’t enjoy the concert if everything wasn’t in order before I left the house so I got out the tea pot and inserted three tea bags. Later fidgeting hubby walked past the tea pot. He paused and placed three tea bags in the pot. As soon as I arrived home I plugged in the kettle and did just what my friend had told me to do. I put three tea bags in the pot. Hubby heard the kettle whistle and being the helpful person that he is, he put three tea bags in the pot. I came back, poured the water in the pot and waited five minutes. When five minutes had past I took out the three tea bags but to my surprise there were still more tea bags in the pot. I kept fishing them out until I had twelve tea bags. Hubby came along and tipped the tea pot. I’d never noticed before how much tea looks like maple syrup.
Older British people are so charming. When I asked if they would like a second cup of tea they all had the same response. “Oh no, deary. I really must be going.”
Maybe you would like to stop by for a wee cup.