Thursday, 10 March 2011

How do I love tea? Let me count the ways...


Since my post about coffee, I've felt a little, well, like I have been unfaithful to the good leaf. Tea is my true love when it comes to hot drinks, with coffee only coming into play for it's energising qualities. Today the baby slept until 6.09am which is unheard of, and means no need for java. So here is a little love letter to my poison.
Tea is the way I like to start my day, and it punctuates the hours as they go by. It is the default I always return to whenever I'm not quite sure what to do with myself - it restores my factory settings. A quote about the restorative qualities of tea adorns our official Malago WI apron: There is no trouble so great or grave that cannot be much diminished by a nice cup of tea - Bernard-Paul Heroux
Amen to that.

A while back, I got tired of making tea in a cup rather than a pot. A pot is fine if you have company, and I do love my Ikea pot and it's woolly, bobble-hat tea cosy, but it's too large for a single cup. What I needed was a dinky pot which would hold just enough for one. A bit like those lovely ones the Tate cafes use. Well, wouldn't you know it? Tate shops sell them - hoorah. They are pricey at £25, but if you use it at least once every day the cost-per-use is so tiny it's irrelevant.

While we're on the subject of the great Tate, I have to admit to being a bit of a groupie despite living hundreds of miles from my nearest. The galleries and exhibitions are, of course, incredible - you don't need me to tell you that - but I am also obsessed with the cafes, and the shops too. Brilliant stuff for kids, and beautiful things for everyone else. Such a good place to buy presents. Oh, and follow them on Facebook and Twitter and you'll feel like they're a part of your daily life. My favourite is Tate St Ives, and they do a brilliant job of writing the loveliest Facebook updates that transport me to Porthmeor Beach with the sun on my face and the salty breeze in my hair. Sitting on top of the Tate teapot is my beloved Tate St Ives mug, which I cannot seem to find hide nor hair of online, strangely. And while we're on the subject of museums, my other favourite mug sits top left, and is from the Guggenheim in New York.

Mug is empty. Baby needs waking. Tea break over.

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