What's in the pot: Earl Grey
Try not to judge me too much, but as far back as I can remember, I've always loved a strong cup of Earl Grey- dark, aromatic, and slightly on the bitter side. In all my youthful ignorance, I used to steep it as strong as I could palate and load up my mug with milk and honey. On a particularly long day or cold night I would even indulge in two rounds, and that used to be a lot of tea to me.
My oh my, haven't things changed?
These days I still go back to sipping on my childhood favorite when I crave that sense of nostalgic comfort. Today is one of those days. Nothing is particularly wrong, but there are definitely times when one can use some extra cheer. Just hearing the kettle begin to simmer brings an uncontrollable glimmer of a smile to my face. It's that feeling of being home amidst the madness and merriment with my family. This time of year always evokes a longing to be with loved ones, and this year will be no different with a long stretch through the holiday season as I trudge through my weekly schedule in retail.
One moment- I hear the call of the kettle...
Okay, I'm back from the kitchen, and this pot is perfectly infused. It might not be a fancy dian hong cha, or some expensive cliff-grown oolong from Wuyi, but don't let its facade of plebeian simplicity fool you.
Today especially makes me want to reach for that familiar bergamot brew because it's my baby sister's birthday. Her eighteenth birthday. Let me repeat that for you: she's attained adulthood. Like, she can vote and stuff now. The years have flown by, and she'll be graduating high school before I even have a chance to blink. I feel like I've grown ten years older just by thinking about it.
In all seriousness, though, I miss home. I miss the seaside walks and salt breezes of South Florida. I miss the playful bickering between my sister and mother, my father's terrible humor, and, occasionally, the barking of dogs. Mind you, I really enjoy not listening to the noise, too, but I miss it all the same sometimes. Times were a lot simpler then; I could just go to school come home after rehearsal and unwind. After dinner I'd offer my family a round of tea, and I'd help myself to a nice cuppa. Although I consider myself a bit of a tea snob at this point in my life, I still long for the rising of citrus with vapor from that copper colored liquor.
Earl Grey is my homecoming in a cup. I always drink it out of a fancy, handled teacup with saucer. It's one of the few times I insist upon using a cup with a handle, and maybe that is from my adolescent propensity for giant mugs of tea. I think a large part of it really has more to do with being able to hold it close to my face without burning my fingertips. I love to drink up the aroma as much, if not more, than the tea itself. Bergamot, like all citrus, has an uplifting effect on one's mood, and aromatherapists often recommend this Ionian fruit to cut through depression.
I'm already on cup number two, and I can detect in a shift in the emotional climate of my day. I might not fuel the shift with sugar and enrich the experience with milk anymore (except for really bad days), but the Earl is still a good companion on a lonely autumn day. The single people of the world become hyper aware of their singledom in the midst of the season of cute family photos with Santa and couples who compete to out-gift one another and slink around the mistletoe. A cup of Earl Grey staves off solitude by reminding me of the nights before the TV with the family and late-night talks with room mates past.
When my romantic life is at a lull and I've no one to snuggle up against at night, I know I've still got a friend in the Earl. When the steam rises from the teacup, I feel as though I'm enveloped in a fond embrace from a past lover. Maybe this one will even spend the night. Let's just not tell Lady Grey, okay?
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