Smitten

I’d barred the idea of writing about tea for a long, long time. It’s my first love. Yes, even before the namesake of this blog. I was exposed to it by my old master, drinking hot tea instead of cold water after strenuous kicks and punches, and I’ve even gone so far as to con my way into expos masquerading as a buyer just for the sake of tasting the most expensive liquors. But, more than being something personal, I’ve never considered it something serious around here. I’ve badgered brewers in shops with techniques, and even asked them to give me the leaves separate from the water so I could wait for the appropriate temperature and then steep it myself. I imagined there was never really much to say about the stuff when it came to people shelling it out. It was just something traded, elevated by the rhetoric that branded it and sold the lifestyle attached to it. Around here, unless brewed at home, it was nothing more than a pretense for meeting. It doesn’t hold the same assumed finesse as coffee does around these parts. That is until Joey and I serendipitously discovered a shop in Stratford just shy of a week ago. It took Joey some convincing, but I guaranteed him copious amounts if he came along. And, of course, as my dear brother in culinary arms, he obliged, aware of my past, aware of my prospects with Mrs. Wu in the hills of Gukeng.

We almost missed Tea Leaves Tasting Bar, zooming by the old retrofitted bed and breakfast, now base to the only place, at least that I’ve found, run and occupied by a tea sommelier, schooled in the brew, traveled, well versed, and more than ready to teach you about the cheapest of luxuries. And before you disqualify with an assumption that the tea is expensive, let me assure you, it isn’t any more than the places you buy it at in town. The place is riddled with teapots, hangings, cups, anything tea related, and as well as the most spirited cats. Joey and I were smitten, if only a little anxious. Me, because I wanted to make a good impression; Joey, because he likes cats.

And so there we were, treated to an on the spot tasting, focused on buying the purest greens, but side-tracked by rich Keemuns (Qimens for you cool kids) because of our shared appreciation for the smokier whisky-esque brews. Our sommelier gave us a profile, set up some cups, timed, brewed, and poured, teaching us more in an hour than Okakura ever could. The resemblance to wine tasting was uncanny, and if you can get passed the discomfort of the bourgeois sentiment of connoisseurship, then you can learn how to really appreciate every kind of dynamic in every kind of tea. The touch, the taste, the smell. We were told about mouthfeel, how to slurp tea held in the mouth in order to experience an even deeper element of aroma and taste, ideas I’ve read about in books but only seldom tried until that day. It was magical. Just two bros at a bar, with a great teacher, lovin’ Lapsang Souchong, the most remarkable we’ve tried, and we’ve bought it from every shop in the region. Its aroma was like fresh tilled earth and a forest floor riddled with meaty fungus. Its flavor, smoky with woody elements and the most amazing root like notes reminiscent of fresh ginseng. I bought up a big bag, and spoiled myself with a cheery blossom sencha brew as well. Dewy with an ester quality. Buttery cherry notes filled the nostrils and breath even after breathing out. Apparitional cherry flavor even coated the tongue. It was hard to believe this tea, like all the others, had no flavouring added. And yet, there it was, sought after, thought about, critically drank, chosen, and brought back to us bumpkins so we could enjoy, what I can’t stop saying: the cheapest of luxuries.

 



 




TEA LEAVES TEA TASTING BAR
Wednesday to Saturday,
11am to 5pm, or by appointment

433 Erie Street, Stratford,
Ontario, Canada N5A 2N3

1-800-733-0376 (toll-free)
519-273-1201 (local)

ANY PAYMENT

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