My ideal morning starts off with boiling water in a tea kettle, pouring said water into a teapot containing English or Irish Breakfast tea bags: one with caffeine, one without. After it brews for 10 minutes, and if the morning goes according to plan, I’ll get 3 cups of tea, each with almond milk and a scant teaspoon of raw sugar.
That pot of tea can keep me filled up, full of vigor and going for about two hours, before I start feeling twinges of hunger for food. What’s left in the pot is shared with some happy plants, unless I’m favored with company who like to share my morning tea. Well, if I have guests for tea, then bring on the toast with butter and jam: a tea party!
I learned several years ago that my body just can’t take too much caffeine; two cups of pure caffeinated tea will send me into the jittering trembles. I love the smell and taste of coffee—when half of it is with warmed up milk and a heaping spoon of sugar—but can only take the decaf kind—and I don’t yearn for it very often. Sometimes just the smell alone is all I need. (But not that second-hand smell on someone’s breath. Eugh!)
There is such a variety of teas on the market, with my favorites being black, then chai, and then green only when mixed with jasmine or ginger. I’m working on liking chamomile, mint will do, but keep those orange or berry mixtures, and oh-hell-no to Rooibos tea from South Africa. My final eugh! of the day.