There’s a cast in this post.
There’s me, and Lady Devotea, whom regular readers will know and adore.
There is also our eldest son. As our other son has been referred to on this blog as “Devotea Junior”, let’s call this recently returned one “The Prodigal”.
The Prodigal is in Australia for just a few weeks after a year in New Zealand. After a short side trip he intends to settle in Canada with his partner, who is also in our tale today and whom we shall call Z, as it sounds mysterious and is 33.33% of her actual name.
Over the last few years, The Prodigal has become a tea drinker, with a fondness for greens.
Anyway, it was time to tidy up the tea cupboard, and we found this:
Yes, a tube of “The World’s Special Tea”. But what is it, and why is it special?
It’s the tea that goes with this book.
When I first read the book, I thought it was wonderful. I still do. It’s like a tea primer, it teaches children aged 3-7 to connect with tea.
My own version of tea education would be more along Soviet-style indoctrination camps,. where glassy-eyed children chant “We Love Tea” and are prepared to report teabag-using neighbours to the Central Committee for a reward of a pound of Lord Petersham – but this is a good alternative until the Glorious Tea Revolution arrives.
Anyway, I acquired this – possibly two years ago – when I read the book.
Clearly, after all this time, it’s probably well past its ‘best before’ date.
And yet, why not give it a go?
It has orange peel in it, that’s why not. Not possible for someone with my allergies.
Enter our tea panel. Since it’s a tea to have with your children, it should not matter if the child in question is 26.
We discussed the packaging, and all agreed with Z that it was somewhat like an old-fashioned children’s toy. Lady D loved the bright colours.
I opened the tube – and it was teabags. I was expecting that, but had still hoped for the best.
In this case, I guess a bag is like training wheels, but look at what you get when you slit the bag open (apart from satisfaction):
Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s rooibos and a bunch of pretty ingredients, including wonderful-looking redcurrants and blue cornflowers.
Next step was to brew some up.
It takes far longer to brew than a standard tea, and in my impatience, I poured it too early.
I was tricked by how quickly it colours up. The photo was taken at 3 minutes, and it looked ready, but it wasn’t.
After the panel all agreed it was very insipid, I consulted the pack and found it actually needed about double the time.
While we waited, Lady D opined that it was “the colour of brandy” and The Prodigal agreed, possibly with an idea of blending the two.
I enjoyed the warm, spicy fruit pudding aroma that the open glass jug was giving off.
After the requisite time, I poured again.
It should be noted that all of our panel are sugarers, so the first non-sugar tasting divided them. The Prodigal thought it was nice and light with a perfect balance of ginger; Z and Lady D headed for the sugar bowl.
Sugar seemed to do the trick. Lady D felt the sugar brought out the redcurrant taste, and the whole thing had a lovely candy-like aftertaste. Z wondered if the actual taste was more likely to appeal to an adult palate, as it might be too subtle for children used to Strawberry Quik-like flavours.
I wondered if we were missing something.
“I think it would be nice iced” said someone whose name I failed to record.
So, into the fridge for a cold brew with the remainder.
The next morning a lovely spicy, fruity aroma greeted the opening of the door.
According to the panel, the tea iced well, but remained light.
What we don’t know, of course, is what this tisane is actually like when it’s fresh. But our samples produced a brew that was very mild and is unlikely to turn off those children who dislike strong flavours. It has no caffeine, which I guess is a good thing.
The most important thing about this tea is the book that it comes with, and the subsequent books the author JoAni Johnson has written since.
It’s a Jesuit-like stealth attack on impressionable children, to have them demanding tea before insidious evils like cola become irreplaceable in their lives. It emphasises history, politeness, culture and shared reflections.
Take that, coffee! Whatcha gonna do about it, cola?
A Special Tea indeed.
Looks like it had hibiscus in it, too. You know it’s ready when it’s the color of blood.
Mmmmmmblood tea.
Sounds like this was really a family affair. I am truly honored. I find that Rooibos does not age as well as true tea and this might be the case with herbals in general though you would know better than I. When you get to the U.S. I will brew both you and Lady D a current cup :-).
Thank you for composing this piece and speaking so nicely about the book.
I look forward to our meeting just a few short weeks away.
THE DEVOTEA’S NOTE: Part of Chris’ reply has been removed as it has caused some unnecessary offence. It was a poor attempt at humour, which is always acceptable unless it is damaging, which I deem this to be.
Sadly, this also means my stinging rebuke is no longer necessary and will be removed. A shame, as it was a literary gem.
…
I should point out that the place in Canada where The Prodigal is moving to is my hometown, though I may be gone when that little bit of Robert’s genetic material gets here.
It’s a small world. Rather too small if you ask me.
Chris
You’ve got it all wrong, so let’s go through this in some detail.
When I was in Year 9 maths, we did asymptotes, which was defined as a line that cannot be crossed by either curve when solving quadratic equations, as I recall. In year 12 Maths, the same teacher broke the news that these lines could be crossed.
I accused him of lying and treachery, quit maths, took up cartography and spent a term making papiér mache models of tiny hills.
His explanation, way back then, was that a Year 9 brain could do the maths much more easily if it had a different set of parameters.
This is the same thing. The book is about culture, and getting kids on the tea bandwagon. You don’t hand a Lamborghini to a 5 year old, they start with training wheels on a shiny bike they got from Santa.
The book fills a huge gap in the market and I love it. The tea is an adjunct to the book, not a ceremonial-grade bat-chewed radioactive matcha or whatever it is you drink. You might as well attack parents over the plastic tea sets that tiny children use. In your world, we’d issue the best crockery, boiling water and one of those overpriced whisks to preschoolers and then stand by.
I did check with the Canadian Humour Department at Calgary University to see if you were being funny (https://arts.ucalgary.ca/idp/sites/idp.ucalgary.ca/files/courses/W12/CNST339/CNST339-W12.pdf) but it appears it didn’t qualify.
Jesuit? I thought I was the only one that could qualify.
But mixing btandy and rooibos and drinking it? This is not for children 😉
Brandy and btandy ;(
Despite @HappyGaiwan‘s thoughts it is a wonderful tea/tisane a great gateway for the child conscience parent that wants to help create the setting of a wonderful tea drinking and educational experience. No lies here at all. One that will only help instill and foster a healthy appreciation for tea and its beginnings years to come. Plus keeping caffeine out of the picture naturally rather than through the process of decaffeination.
Well done @jopj this is a wonderful tea and your books are truly inspiring and can keep even the attention of my precocious daughter whom also proudly enjoys being the poster child on your site.
It is unfortunate @thedevotea is unable to enjoy this blend due to his allergies so in the meantime he will have to live vicariously through the rest of us that so very much love this delicately balanced beauty.
Stupid me didn’t know that it’s Jo’s book he’s talking about.
Don’t bury it in the desert, Robert. You clearly need more learning, anyways. I know I do.
This blend certainly is visually pleasing…quite colorful and with a lot of varied textures!
I find cornflowers impart a negligible flavor or aroma, especially when included sparingly and alongside strong ingredients.
I love redcurrants. I’ve never had them in tea though…I do like blackcurrant flavored black tea–I think of blackcurrant as a much bolder flavor than redcurrants though. I can’t quite imagine what redcurrant would taste like in a blend like this.
Love the book, both it and the tea have been a big hit in our household. A pity you didn’t get to experience it at its peak – as you imagined, two years on is not quite the same as sipping it just blended. It’s still good, but oh – straight off the online (virtual) tea shelves it’s at its best. We can brew it up when you come!