TALES OF MY FATHER
My Father ……. Jack-of-all-Trades, Master-of-None ……. an enigma
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TALE FIVE: HOW TO MAKE
THE PERFECT CUP OF TEA
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Although my father undoubtedly made the best cup of tea that I have ever tasted, I must be honest and admit that on one occasion, I did enjoy a cup of tea that gave his a run for the money.
I remember that it was during my student days and I was on a small trawler just outside the Port of Plymouth when I tasted this cup of tea. However, as delicious as this tea was, let me remind the reader that it was still second to that of my father’s.
Top Left: Map of Plymouth; Top Right: The Statue of Sir Francis Drake (~1540-1596)
by Sir Joseph Edgar Boehm (1834-90) present in Hoe Park; Bottom: View of Plymouth Hoe
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It was just before Easter 1965. I was very concerned about my Final Examinations at College, which were to begin within the month. I was with a group of other students who were attending a course at the Maritime Institute at Plymouth. This was a necessary part of my Zoology degree course. I found it very annoying to have to attend at this time when what I wanted, and needed to be doing, was studying. I was determined not to enjoy the course and found everything that had been planned for us to be irritating. My problem with the study of Zoology was that although I enjoyed the theoretical side of the subject, I did not enjoy its practical. I did not enjoy observing animals either in the field or in zoos or peering down microscopes or dissecting formaldehyde-preserved creatures! However, I did enjoy their Physiology and also comparing and contrasting the various systems that comprise animals.
Despite it being spring, the weather, although bright, was unusually cold and windy. As I had to walk each morning to the Station, I generally arrived in a disheveled and grumpy state and in no mood for the activities planned. I remember that on one morning, I was greeted with the news that we should consider ourselves especially lucky for we were to be given a treat! An outing had been arranged for us! My heart sank! It sank even further when I learned that we were to spend the day out at sea on a Trawler!
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On the day of our planned treat, the wind of the early morning had died down and the sea had become calm. Once aboard the Trawler, we were subjected only to the gentle up and down movement of the small waves. Despite the apparent calmness of the sea, it was not long before I was feeling ill. I later learned that I have been the only member of my group not to have taken a pill to avoid this! My illness was my own fault since I am a notoriously bad traveler and am always ill when travel involves any gentle undulating motion.
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I can become ill on the sea at the drop of a hat! I do not need huge waves causing ships to pitch and yaw for this to happen! I have suffered seasickness on river boats, speed boats etc. and even in harbours! I remember a time when I had been invited to enjoy dinner on a barge on the River Seine in the heart of Paris that had been rented by some friends. Sadly, I had to leave before the hors d’oueves had time to arrive since the gentle lapping of the tiny waves of the River caused by passing boats brought on my maladie de mal-de-mer. Of course, had I taken one tiny Antiemetic drug, I could have avoided this misery.
Dramamine, an Antiemetic Agent
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Now on the Trawler, my lack of Sea Legs became apparent even before we left the harbour! My queasy state quickly went from bad to worse, and I was soon found gripping the rail of the boat, while being violently sick into the English Channel! What is tragic about my inability to be a good sailor (unless dosed on an Antiemetic agent) was that it had not allowed me to fully enjoy watching the trawl net being dragged through the sea and then hoisted up and dropping the catch on the deck for us to inspect and choose specimens for later dissection! Of course I am being sarcastic here in my assessment of the joys of trawling!
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Once I started to feel better, but not up to making any decisions, I decided to forgo the choosing some poor fish to chop up once back on shore. Instead, I made my way, somewhat unsteadily, below deck. Fortunately I was able to navigate myself down the ladder without crashing to the ground.
Once below deck, I found an old sailor dishing out huge white mugs of mud-coloured tea to several of my colleagues. My colleagues were mostly middle-class girls who I doubt had ever drunk any drink from a mug, let alone tea.
An Old Salt of the Sea
The old sailor was obviously amused by us and must have noticed my ashen complexion. Once I moved away from the ladder, he pushed a mug in my hand saying Take this son, it’ll put ‘air on ya chest! With that he burst into laughter. I could not help from smiling along with him, as I took the mug, despite my still somewhat shaky condition. I looked at the tea. It had that mud-colour that reminded me of my father’s brew of preference.
Although the tea looked somewhat unappetising as a result of my condition, once I took a sip, I instantly felt better and quickly gulped it down. I recall that the old sailor laughed even more and then he told the others to down it and not just sip it. It was a delicious drink and I eagerly and gratefully took a second mug full when it was offered. I remember that I was the only member of my group to accept a refill.
I can still remember the taste of the old sailor’s delicious brew and can honestly say that his tea is the only brew to come anywhere close to that of my father in taste!
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I live now in the U.S.A. where people drink Iced Tea, which I still can not bring myself to drink. Apparently well over three quarters of the tea drunk here comprises of this drink.
I have a somewhat horrifying tale about the first time that I tasted Iced Tea. It was in 1970, I was on my first visit to the U.S. where I was on a River Boat on the Mississippi River in New Orleans.
Sadly, many of the so-called joys of the city had totally escaped me and I hoped to find something of interest on the boat ride. New Orleans, at that time, and I doubt even now, is especially interesting from the River. Once I discovered this, I decided to explore the boat and began by going below.
After coming down the staircase and arriving on the lower deck, I noticed a table covered with a long white tablecloth. On it was a large punch bowl filled with a brown liquid. Behind the table were several older ladies with too much makeup and who were neatly dressed in white blouses and black skirts. I noted that the lower deck was filled with similarly dressed women and men dressed in white shirts, dark ties and black trousers. Most held glasses filled with this brown liquid.
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Now the reader needs to remember that this was still a time when the average European did not visit the U.S.A. and that those that were on their first visit were not perhaps familiar with the finer points of American culture and cuisine. As a result, I was under the impression that the punch bowl and glasses filled with ice cubes and the brown liquid was Whiskey-on-the-rocks!
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Since I was in dire need of some refreshment, I decided to sidle up to the table and ask one of the ladies if I might sample the liquid. The lady was thrilled to fill me a glassful and handed it to me with a big smile. As I put the glass to my lips and as I took my first and only sip, she said that she hoped that I would enjoy THE ICED TEA!
I am ashamed to say that, being new to the country and never having heard of such a drink, I was suddenly filled with horror and yelled out WHAT IS THIS MUCK? as I spat the SIP out! Unfortunately for everyone, and even more for me, my Sip, which had been more like a huge Gulp, was projected across the table and into the punch bowl!
I was beyond being mortified and quickly put my glass on the table! In my now confused and embarrassed state, I managed to splutter out an apology of sorts, but as I turned to leave, I knocked my almost full glass over and the brown liquid spread across the white table cloth! I remember turning and running up the staircase leading to the upper deck. Once there, I ran to the furtherest point on the boat where I remained until the end of that endless trip and after everyone had disembarked. I feel intense embarrassment together with a twinge of conscience even now when I think of my shocking action. I later learned that the people drinking their Iced Tea were members of a Southern Baptist Convention Group and were enjoying an afternoon of repose.
Southern Baptist Conventions
Top Left: 1969; Bottom Left: 1974; Right: Southern Baptist Logo
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Some Americans do drink tea with milk, but they are in the minority. The hot tea drinkers that I met are forever telling me how much they enjoy a cup of Earl Grey blend.
When Americans ask me which blend of tea I like, I tell them with a straight face that I like strong tea: tea with milk and with the appearance of mud! I add that the blend that I prefer is the stuff that is discarded from the fancier blends and which was probably swept up from the floor! Naturally they are horrified. Although this comment is meant as a joke, at least in part, I have to confess that I do not enjoy fancy or scented tea and prefer tea with a body. I will drink China Tea when I eat Chinese Food, but this is not often. Like my father, I have come to like very strong Indian and Ceylon Tea with a little milk and no sugar.
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It took me quite a few years before I was able to enjoy – or rather relish – a cup of tea in the U.S.A. I always believed that this was due to the water NOT being right for the making of tea! Perhaps I have mellowed over the years, but once I used real English tea for the brew, the drink began to taste much better.
Today I only drink it at home and although I do not perhaps go to the lengths that my father did, I make a decent cup! I always boil the water on the stove for a few minutes and I also use a real teapot, which I warm and allow the brew to steep for a good while under a cosy! I generally sit quietly at my kitchen table and savour the taste.
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But which brands of tea would I recommend to the reader and which brands do I buy myself and brew? I fear that the number of brands that I recommend to others is few and those that I buy myself are even fewer.
I used to buy my tea in England during my visits, and only bought it at Marks & Spencer. I do not enjoy fancy teas. I like simple Indian and Ceylon Teas. My favourite is Marks & Spencer’s Blue Box Tea and I used to purchase huge quantities during my visits to the U.K. so as not to run out before my next trip.
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However since my traveling days now appear to be over, I have had to find a company here in the U.S.A. where real tea, as my father would have called it, can be purchased at a price that is reasonable.
After scouring of the Internet and after a number of unsatisfactory purchases, I was able to find a tea that appealed to my taste. This delicious brew is produced by Twinings and is their Ceylon Orange Pekoe blend. This tea makes a really delicious brew and I can highly recommend to readers. I like my tea with either milk or lemon and find it hard to enjoy most Indian and Ceylon blends without their addition. However, Ceylon Orange Pekoe is such a blend that I can enjoy and fully appreciate its remarkable flavour without the addition of anything else.
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I remember the first time that I tasted Ceylon Orange Pekoe. It was during the late 1960s and I was visiting London for a few days on a break from college. I remember walking from Piccadilly Circus towards Coventry Street. As I crossed Lower Regent Street, I noticed the Ceylon Tea Centre on the other side of the road and since it was about 4 P.M., I decided that it might be enjoyable to take tea, something I normally did not do at that time. Once inside, I soon learned that tea was being served with milk or lemon. I remember that the tea came in a clear glass container and was a light orange brown in colour. I sniffed and wished that I had not come inside! However, one small sip was enough to make me realise that this was a delicious tea and I recall that I did not leave before drinking three cups of this remarkable blend.
The Ceylon Tea Centre, Lower Regent Street
This photograph appears at the Vernon Corea (1927-2002) website
Sadly, the Ceylon Tea Centre on Lower Regent Street closed sometime during the 1970s. I remember feeling very disappointed when I discovered that it was no longer there. I don’t think that I have drunk tea in a cafe or restaurant in London since!
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Although I have not found tea other than my own brew to my liking here in the U.S.A., I have found tea to be wonderfully well brew in some other countries. I have tasted great brews of tea on visits to Australia, New Zealand and Ireland. The Irish understand tea and know how to make an especially delicious cup. Australia also has great brews and it is possible to buy cups of tea, as well as great coffee, in little cafes there.
My favourite tea from Australia is Billy Tea. I was introduced to this delicious and remarkable tea by the mother of a friend of mine when I was visiting Sydney a few years back. This wonderful brew is advertised as the kind of tea that Swagmen used to brew in their Billy Cans.
Billy Cans: Right, Traditional ; Left: Modern Versions
Whether this is true or not, I do not know. What I do know is that the brew that is produced from this tea is delicious and one cup is never enough! I am certain that my father would have approved of this tea were he to have tasted it.
A Swagman shown Down on His Luck and painted by Frederick McCubbin (1855-1917) in 1889
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