Just my cuppa

By the age of seven, I was considered by my family a Tea Granny. Back in Ireland, someone whose main tipple is the brew that exudes from the lowly tea leaf, is often bestowed with this particular matriarchal moniker.

It’s not like I had any choice. Tea was on the family menu with every meal, looming as a large presence particularly at dinner where it took pride of place with the much-anticipated dessert. Gulping down a cup of tea carried me out of the house every morning and to school, then university, to the workplace and onward. Every homecoming, no matter how long or short the absence, was met for everyone in the house – family or guests alike – with the inimitable directive to “Put on the kettle.”

Tea, for me, punctuates my memories as a constant. There was no alternative when sitting down to a meal or just “a cuppa tae in your hand”. Coffee didn’t darken our doorway. I’ve always wondered how our non-Irish visitors felt about the blockade on their percolated beverage.

More often than not it’s the English who are associated with the drink. Think “High Tea” and British aristocracy leaps immediately to mind. It is a custom, a ritual, a pleasant afternoon indulgence for those gents and ladies who lunch.

There was no High Tea in our house. But tea loomed high on the grocery list. Good, strong tea, not the insipid insult of a bag thrown in a mug with hot water. Proper tea, three or four bags to the teapot, with water brought to a thumping boil poured over it. Sugar, milk, stir. Loose tea may have been more authentic, but far too much trouble. My mother often said I liked my tea when it could stagger out of the pot by itself. That I did. And then more, please.

Breakfast, Lunch, Tea, Dinner and Supper, in the morning, at noon, at 4, 6 and bedtime respectively were witness to our lot sitting down, each with a cuppa (or mugga) in hand, its contents washing down whatever comestible featured at that meal.

But it wasn’t just at mealtimes that tea took centre stage. It was a staple accompanying every notable event in our lives: be it to celebrate good news and a happy time; or to commiserate over a misfortune, a relationship gone bad or a death in the family. I don’t know how many thousands of times my mother told me,“Sit down and I’ll put the kettle on” but it remains as a backdrop to my childhood. No matter the reason or time of day, those are the memories that comfort me most. My mind’s eye regards them with reverence, with assurance and, indeed, with gratitude.

Of course, we folk in and from the British Isles and Ireland do not have a corner on the tea market.

Ask for a Chai Tea and you’re repeating yourself as, in Hindi, ‘Chai’ means ‘tea’, albeit that tea is a world apart from the drink as it came to be associated with more western climes. With its mix of boiled black tea, milk, sugar and, usually, masala spices, I think of Chai as a more adventurous, less housebound variation of the ‘tae’ that traces my life’s route. In China, the Mandarin form of the word is 'Cha', a drink I generally regard as green tea.

The Japanese Tea Ceremony (sado, chado or chanoyu) puts my teatime routine to shame. In that country, for centuries, a brew made from matcha powder, was a conduit to celebrating harmony, mindfulness and wellbeing with the ritual followed to promote a good relationship between guest and host.

A seasoned world traveler is tea, criss-crossing the globe through millennia in its various manifestations, a staple be it spanning generations and civilizations, grand celebration or accompanying the meager daily bread.

Such a noble was the lowly tea leaf. It held pride of place throughout my family’s lifetime, marking every important decision or happening. The most of my happy memories find their voice in a feeling of comfort, an affirmation of familial love, and in a friend who marked my milestones over so many decades. Fond memories, a wistful hark back and a long-familiar routine.

Tea is all those things. And, while, I have the most utmost respect for its history of celebrity globetrotting and universal appeal, to me, tea will always just mean ‘home’.