I’ve spoken far too many times about tea in this blog. I can’t help it, it’s my poison. That, and coffee.
But I don’t cherish just the cuppa in my hand. I admire the entire process of tea estates, from plucking the leaves, and adding pressure to them, to pressing them to extract every essence of goodness. It’s such a sensitive job — to treat every leaf as a drop in someone else’s wake up call.
Morning tea is the most important part of my day. And I don’t believe in portion control. I try to do some reading while I sip my tea, but it never happens. When I sniff my tea, my mind goes blank and only tea matters.
I’ve visited a few tea estates in my life, lived in one of them too. It’s a divine feeling to walk amidst tea leaves at 6 am and get a whiff of the leaves, even months before they’re ready to go in my cup.