My cup of tea

On my first flight to the States, the hot beverage for coach class on Northwest fleet was a mixture of tea AND coffee. The taste of this “special” brew was hard to describe. I am glad that it is gradually fading away from my memory. In those days, tea making and drinking in America involved Lipton tea bags, hot water and a mug. Loose-leaf tea was not commonly available. Hardly would anyone ask: “What kind of tea would you like?” Most people’s knowledge of Chinese tea was limited to the low-grade jasmine tea at Chinese restaurants where chop-suey was the top seller.

One of the first thing my family did every morning was to make tea. Like many Chinese tea drinkers, dad preferred green tea to black tea (or 紅茶—red tea). He felt that the natural sweetness of tea was lost during the oxidation process. Even the popular, semi-oxidized 烏龍 Oolong (literally black dragon) did not garner his approval.

Mom has a different kind of appreciation for tea. She used to accompany her grandma to pick tea leaves during summer months. She recalls often the labor-intensive work and all the details that involved.[1] She recalls the simple meals and lodging offered to the workers. Occasionally, for fun, mom would point out how some leaves/stems floated on top—like a fortuneteller reading leaves. We never took it seriously.

I brought some tea with me to the States, but the supply didn’t last long. Soon I found myself searching for something that didn’t need the help of lemon, milk or sugar; something that still had some taste after the first brew. I kept an open mind and started trying everything that I could find at grocery stores. It didn’t take long for me to find Earl Grey. Growing up with green tea, finding any kind of black tea agreeable was a very surprising experience to me.

With a little bit of research, I realized that it was the addition of bergamot oil that attracted me. Chinese people believe in the medicinal value of orange peel tea. When oranges were in season, my parents would clean and dry orange peels around the stove. Even though I found the taste of orange peel tea peculiar at first, I learned to love it. And, I always associate the perfume of dried orange peels to the warmth of a burning stove in winter time.

As tea-drinking becomes a trendy thing, there is a wide-range of varieties on the market. I enjoy tasting 龍井 (Longjing or literally dragon well) and good-quality Oolong. On a cold day, I find comfort in 玄米 (Genmaicha, Japanese green tea with roasted brown rice). I also like to refresh my palate with herbal and floral fusions. Yet, I don’t consider them “tea,” since they didn’t come from tea shrubs.

What’s your favorite tea?


[1] In Taiwan, low-growing tea plants are cultivated in mountainy areas. One often need to bend down while picking tea leaves. Seasonal labors commonly work long hours during harvest time. For good quality tea productions, only the new growth on the tip of the branches— “一心二葉” (one tip and two leaves)—should be picked. In recent decades, usage of harvesting machines has become more and more popular. While it increases productivity, it makes the quality less even.

Nutella

I, coincidentally, picked up one of those free newspapers at transit hubs. Flipping through the pages, mostly advertisements and public notifications, I saw a brief article on the future of Nutella. I couldn’t help but digging into it. Barilla, the company known for their pastas, is jumping into the market of chocolaty spread with a “healthier” formula.

Nutella, the brand-named hazelnut and chocolate spread, is a must-have on any Italian breakfast table. I never heard of it before landing on Italian soil. But, then, everywhere I turned, there was Nutella. It is thick but smooth. The chocolate and nuts help to balance its sweetness. Its taste pleases one’s palate and its nutty fragrance stirs up fantasies.

Nutella not only captured the hearts and souls of Italian people, but also spread its charm into the neighboring countries. Some of my European friends can’t live without it. In the last decades, many organic products had reduced some of its market power.  Meanwhile, it had reached the shores of the United States. Yet, most Americans stick with their peanut butter—chunky and/or smooth.

Although I don’t have a sweet tooth, I do like Nutella and peanut butter both. Nutella will always remind me of my brief sojourn in Italy. Peanut butter will remind me of my aunt from Hsinchu (新竹) and her visits.

Hsinchu ayi is mom’s eldest sister. She and mom share many resemblances, except that her facial structure is slimmer. She has a very gentle way of expressing herself. All her children are much older than me and my brother. Auntie used to spoil us with all kinds of specialty treats. She would bring us Hsinchu rice vermicelli; meatballs AND peanut butter.

Now a center of high-tech research and industry, Hsinchu used to be a quiet town. Its sunny and windy climate is perfect for production of rice vermicelli. Steamy and soft noodles are bundled, shaped, flattened and set on bamboo stands to air-dry. Hsinchu rice noodles are known for its al-dente texture.

Hsinchu meatballs are called “gong-wan” (貢丸).  They were originally named after the producing method— “pounding” (摃) seasoned ground pork into paste.  Their modified name 貢 means tributes or gifts (to the Imperial courts).  The paste is shaped into walnut-size balls and boiled.  These meatballs are great sources of umami.

While the noodles and meatballs would be eaten within a few days, the peanut butter would last for a little longer. Freshly ground roasted peanuts were very different than the factory productions. Opening the jar, one would be rewarded with the rich aroma of roasted nuts. Polite or not, I would scoop some with a spoon and let the paste melt in my mouth. I always enjoyed peanut butter on a toast for breakfast. Mom would warn me how fattening peanut butter was, so I would not keep digging into the jar.

Sweet memories. . ..  Will the new rivalry force Nutella to make any changes?