Tea and Health?

I try not to read too much about the health benefits of tea. (Yes, I know I just wrote a couple of posts about how good ginger and chamomile are for you… and they ARE good for you… and so is regular tea, particularly of the green variety… but I don’t really think that my comments fall into the tea-vangelical category that many other tea-and-health postings on Camellia sinensis do.) As someone with a background in herbal medicine, who is also often stubbornly resistant (still) to taking Panadol for even the most blinding headache, I am fascinated by the capacity of plants to do us good.

Yet the most tea-vangelical of the tea-vangelists (and I may be thinking here about some of the lovely people at T Ching, who are clearly passionate about their tea, but sometimes a little obsessed; witness some of the comments posted to articles on their blog) often decry the practice of drinking black teas – particularly with milk, heaven help you – and portray green and white tea drinkers as the chosen few who will inherit the kingdom of good health… and woe to anyone who dares to touch a nice cup of English Breakfast with milk and a bit of sugar… (cue thunderclaps, lightning, and the howling of wolves)

Ok, so maybe that was a bit extreme, but truly, I find all this information a little bit depressing, which is why I tend to avoid it. I like my black teas (with milk, depending on the kind) equally as much as my greens and whites and oolongs, and nothing spoils enjoyment of something so much as being told that it isn’t good for you. Well, nothing spoils my enjoyment more, anyway; I imagine there are some quirky perverse spirits out there who would revel in such information and indulge with all the more relish in the ‘guilty’ pleasure.

I can certainly see why adding milk to black tea (or any tea, mind you, though that would largely be yukky instead of potentially delicious) may inhibit its health benefits: tea derives many of its healthful properties from flavonoids which, as I understand it from my herbal medicine classes, are bound by proteins (such as those in milk) and rendered less active. But honestly, so what? There are many many other sources of health-giving plant nutrients in the world, and so long as you’re consuming a variety of them I don’t think anyone should be too fussed about their tea consumption, of whatever sort.

There are also vast differences between an infusion of a plant, which is drunk, and the individual constituents of that plant extracted in a laboratory and then concentrated, made into creams and applied topically, or sold as tablets to be taken. MarshalN makes this point beautifully in a recent post at his Tea Addict’s Journal. What’s more, there are oodles of other reasons to drink tea of all kinds, completely apart from any health benefits that might accrue to you: it’s warming or cooling, depending on the type and how it’s brewed; it’s refreshing and thirst-quenching; it can be a pleasant social ritual or a soothing quiet time on one’s own; and it comes in so many myriad shapes, colours and flavours that you could probably spend the rest of your life exploring them. I certainly intend to…

Gingerly, gingerly...

I have been suffering from the most rotten cold over the last week or so. I thought I might be going to escape the plague that was sweeping my work area, but alas, it was not to be. I’m through the worst of it now, but up to probably the most annoying stage – where you’re clogged and coughing but, unfortunately, unable to dislodge anything useful by blowing your nose. Very irritating – but fear not, I shan’t continue with any more detailed dissection of my symptoms, it is quite safe to read on.

So needless to say my sense of taste is rather shot at present, which means that only the strongest flavoured teas are of any use to me… I’ve been having quite a bit of peppermint (indeed, I am drinking some greedily as I type), but my current favourite morning tipple is ginger tea with lemon and honey, guaranteed to soothe my throat and refresh me after a night of sniffle-interrupted sleep. I am normally quite a fan of just lemon-juice-in-water first thing in the morning (that’s my inner naturopath for you), but it’s 2 degrees or less in Canberra when we get up at the moment so something rather more warming is called for, and ginger tea hits the spot.

Ginger is a very therapeutic herb, whether as tea or as part of the diet. It reduces nausea, soothes the digestion, warms the stomach (promoting better digestion that way as well), and improves circulation to all parts of the body, particularly the hands and feet. It also appears to have strong benefits for the other parts of the circulatory system, helping to reduce blood pressure and cholesterol, as well as being anti-inflammatory.

Ginger tea is a funny thing for me, though. It has to be plain, or combined only with other spices – I cannot bear it mixed with lemongrass, which is a very common combination and it is almost impossible to find ginger tea bags that are unadulterated with lemongrass. (Don’t get me wrong; lemongrass is delicious on its own or with other citrusy-flavoured herbs, but add it in with ginger and it makes me sick. I believe I am rather unique in this respect.)

Fortunately, at the health food shop where I used to work in Melbourne, Health Reflections ‘Just Ginger’ tea bags are available (this is one case where I prefer tea bags, as I think dried ginger makes better-tasting tea than fresh, but the powdered stuff you use for cooking is too fine to be much use). I bought myself a couple of packets in the early stages of my pregnancy, during a trip back to Melbourne, to help with the nausea – ironically, as it turned out, the very idea of ginger tea made me even MORE nauseous, so I never drank any (should’ve got the capsules instead). However, I’m super-glad that I had it on hand because it has been terrific for helping with my cold.

Liquid Gold

I read a Terry Pratchett book some years ago – I can’t remember which one it was now – in which he described a sunrise as flowing over the land like molten gold. This was followed by a footnote which explained that, given that actual molten gold would be very very hot, very heavy and set things on fire in short order, the sunrise actually wasn’t that much like molten gold, really. This is the kind of thing that simultaneously amuses and irritates me about Terry Pratchett’s writing, but obviously it was a snippet that stuck with me, seeing as how I remember the lines something like 15 years after I read the book.

So, if we are going to be as literal about it as all that, chamomile tea is not actually THAT much like liquid gold either, but taking a metaphor as a metaphor, it could certainly be worth its weight in gold,* for all its usefulness and good qualities.

Chamomile is an excellent calming tonic for the nerves; many herbal books point to its use by Mrs Rabbit when Peter comes back all upset after his escapades in Mr MacGregor’s garden to indicate its soothing qualities and suitability for children (and rabbits, presumably). It can be used for anxiety and sleeplessness (it is not a sedative, just relaxing). It also is excellent for digestive upsets and bloating, particularly those of a nervous or stress-related origin, but also on its own merit because of its volatile oil content and somewhat bitter taste.

(Just to crack out my inner naturopath for a bit, bitter foods tend to be underappreciated in this day and age, despite the many benefits they have. The bitter flavour stimulates the digestion, promoting the production of digestive juices such as stomach acid, and it cleanses and cools the liver; it draws energy into the centre of the body, rather than leaving it out at the periphery, and thus has a calming effect on the fight-or-flight response, in which circulation is diverted out to the muscles. The liver-cleansing properties of many bitter herbs and foods also means that they can have useful secondary effects on other conditions, such as skin and hormonal problems. But ok, that’s probably enough information for now and I’ll leave off my rave. The take-home message is: don’t be afraid of bitter foods and drinks; welcome things like radicchio, dandelion, endive, grapefruit, chamomile, even Angostura bitters into your life!)

Chamomile is also anti-inflammatory, and the tea can be used to soothe skin inflammations and sensitive skin. Chill it and soak some cotton pads in it to make a very refreshing eye mask, or use as a toner after cleansing.

Chamomile blends well with other relaxing herbs such as rose petals, lavender and lemon balm; or for a stronger digestive effect, mix equal parts chamomile, peppermint and lemon balm.

Some people who have an allergy to plants in the daisy (Asteraceae) family may not tolerate chamomile – but for just about everyone else, it’s great!

* although, given how light and fluffy chamomile is, you might get an even better deal if you were able to wrangle it so that you received its volume in gold… now that would be something

Hiatus, explained (with sincere apologies)

Gentle readers (assuming there still are some, and you haven’t all given up on checking this blog, out of despair at my two-month silence) – I am still here. I apologise MOST sincerely for the lack of posts. However, I offer what I think is a reasonable excuse: I’m pregnant with our first baby (!!!!) and due to bizarre hormonal changes, the mere thought of making, or drinking, a cup of tea of almost any kind has made me feel ill…

Cruel fate!! It has in fact been two months of very little joie de tea for me. I have not read my TeaMail… in fact I have been unable to face even reading about tea online anywhere, let alone opening one of my beautiful books about tea… the idea of writing about it has been making me nauseous… I haven’t been inspired to cook with it…* My gorgeous teawares have been languishing unused… water and the occasional orange or apple juice have been my only tipples.

Nonetheless, while I have been very afraid that I shall never be the same again, I hold out hope that my joie de tea is slowly returning (as my overall queasiness also, fortunately, subsides)… Witness: I can drink peppermint, fennel, chamomile, and other (safe in pregnancy) herbal tisanes daily, in fact several times a day now… and while I haven’t yet been able to bring myself to make or drink any kind of green tea, or the new oolongs that I mentioned in my last post, I can manage – a few times a week – a cup of something black and relatively milky. So perhaps I shall gradually make my way out of this long dark tea-less time of the soul after all. Please stay tuned… I will be back!

PS – and for those who are interested, the baby is due at the end of October… just past the 12-week mark and all seems to be well!


*although the sight of the delightful looking chai tea cakes with Earl Grey syrup that feature in the May edition of Notebook: magazine is extremely tempting, and may inspire me next weekend (the recipe isn’t up online yet, but I’ll keep an eye out and draw your attention to it when it is).

Green tea, out and about

Not much time to post this week; have been feeling quite under the weather with the virus that seems to be doing the rounds of my office and have had a couple of days home on the couch feeling sorry for myself. Such is life. It did give me the opportunity to put my Yixing teapot to use for the first time, though – and in other exciting news, the two sample packs of oolong tea (10 different kinds in total!) arrived with unexpected swiftness from Tea From Taiwan (only a week after I placed my order, now that’s great service!). I haven’t had the chance to try any of these so far but I hope to on the weekend after our flying trip to Melbourne.

Anyway, I thought I’d post briefly about a couple of pleasant tea experiences which I’ve had when out to dinner over the last few weeks.

The first was at a brilliant little Middle-Eastern café called Mint in Surry Hills (more or less), Sydney, where my friend M and I had a light dinner after our tea-tasting extravaganza at Zensation. As if I hadn’t had enough tea already (which, clearly, I hadn’t), to my friend’s astonishment I ordered a pot of Moroccan mint tea. To my delight I saw the guy behind the bar literally stuffing a huge – really - handful of fresh mint into a white Beehouse teapot; green tea (not sure what sort) was placed to the infuser, and from the sweetness I guess the sugar had been added along with the mint before the water was put in. It was fresh, minty, sweet but not overly so, and perfectly brewed. I loved it!

Having read a few weeks ago about a spiced green tea called kahva on the TeaSpot blog, I was intrigued to find it listed amongst the hot drinks at the little local Indian restaurant just across the road from our house, when my husband and I ate there one Friday night. I was cranky (had just discovered that our gas had been disconnected for no reason), tired and feeling like I was coming down with a cold, so I decided to order some kahva to warm and cheer myself up.

It arrived in one of those strikingly unattractive little metal teapots that are so common in restaurants, accompanied by a couple of lemon wedges, some sugar, and a tiny espresso-sized cup. The restaurant not being very well lit, the only things that I could see in the pot were some green tea leaves (again, not sure what kind) and some whole star anise, which was responsible for the beautiful sweet aroma rising from the pot. The tea was delicious; not bitter or overbrewed at all, despite the fact that I could only pour out one small cup at a time and the remainder was left to continue to steep. The flavour of the star anise added a lovely liquorice sweetness.

My faith in the possibility of ordering decent green tea while out and about - which was seriously crushed a couple of years ago by a hideous café experience involving some gunpowder green tea, ruined with boiling water and left to steep until it was undrinkable; honestly, it would have stripped paint – is gradually being restored. This can only be a good thing.

New toys!

My o-so-thoughtful husband is becoming increasingly responsible for the increasing number of teapots that I posses. I think – count ‘em – I think I have seven now: glass; orange (that one’s at work); green Beehouse; Yixing; Chinesey looking one with brown leaves and red berries; blue Crown Lynn; and – most recently - this beautiful Japanese one with blue leaves, and its two matching cups, that T gave me for Valentines Day.

I’ve used this one a few times already for (what else?) Japanese sencha (the organic one from from T2) and it’s a stunner; it pours perfectly and the mesh infuser inside is a decent size - not to mention that its rim is made from plastic, so I don't burn my fingers when I'm removing it from the pot! I wouldn’t want to brew a tea whose leaves end up enormous with this (or any other) infuser, but for the fine-cut leaves of sencha it works beautifully. It's hard to see under the pattern, but the side of the pot is actually very slightly ridged, so it has a lovely textural feel to it as well. The pale yellow-green of the infusion goes well against the pale greeny-grey of the cups’ interior.

Isn’t it funny how greeny-grey can be so charming in ceramic wares, and yet so off-putting in other circumstances, like food, for example? Something to ponder, at any rate.

I also received this dinky little Japanese gaiwan-style… well, gaiwan… I suppose, for want of a better word. It doesn’t have a saucer like a traditional Chinese gaiwan and is not quite the same shape. I have been googling and googling but am unable to determine what it might properly be called. But I’ve been using it in a similar type of way to a gaiwan to brew small quantities of tea for repeat infusions. It’s quite easy to hold, although I will admit to using two hands, one for the bowl and one for the lid (I believe proper tea masters can manipulate a gaiwan with only one hand?). I just adore the flowers pattern on the side and the lid, it cheers me up just to look at it! 

It’s pictured here in close up with some of the T2 oolong that my husband also gave me, for Christmas. Anyone who can tell me what it's called, I'd be most grateful.

I shall be posting about both these T2 teas at another time, but soon!

Oh, and I realised that I forgot to post a picture of the Yixing pot which I bought from Zensation the other week. I used it for the first time today (felt a little intimidated by the whole Yixing/gong fu thing, but I got over it!). Isn't it a beauty? And I just adore the little goldfish on the cup!

Summer Strawberry Tea

I hosted my first formal tea party last Sunday, which was attended in high spirits by three friends (and my husband, naturally), and crowned by the successful production of scones in our Weber BBQ (as our gas oven and stove decided to go kaput late last week, seriously throwing out many of our cooking plans for the weekend). I admit to being dubious initially about the capacity of the BBQ to produce baked goods, but I am now a convert, and possibly likely to become an enthusiast. We’ll see.

Half the fun (or more) is in the preparation for these kinds of events; my mum and I are inveterate colour-coordinators at Christmas time, and I love setting myself a theme to work within, then hunting down the requisite matching stuff: place cards, favours, invitations, table

 linen, whatever else is required. Not to mention the pleasure of rifling through the boxes in the garage, which contain all the antique china that we have no room to store in our current small, insufficiently-provided-with-storage-space house, in order to locate some of my beautiful vintage teacup, saucer and plate sets.

And of course, there was the cooking. Fortunately the scones were the only thing I needed to actually bake on the day; and the chocolate for the pistachio and white-chocolate dipped strawberries could be melted in the microwave (I do usually prefer a saucepan over simmering

 water, but needs must, etc).

Other menu items included cucumber sandwiches, and horseradish-laced mini wraps containing roasted capsicum and salad greens (I think these were my favourites). Turns out my husband had never eaten a proper afternoon-tea style cucumber sandwich, crusts cut off and sliced into fingers, before this auspicious event; well, now he knows what he’s been missing out on. The scones were accompanied by lashings of whipped cream and strawberry jam; and the finale was tiny little teacups made of dark chocolate (acquired from a fantastic deli in north Canberra) and filled with my husband’s home-made strawberry gelato. Exquisite!

To serve with all this I brewed up some spearmint-hibiscus iced tea, fantastically ruby-coloured and refreshing, as well as a large pot of Ceylon tea from the Nandana estate, a lovely twisty OP leaf that gives a coppery liquor with a bright, almost fruity flavour. Once these were all consumed and our capacity for food exhausted (for the time being), I brought out some Pi Lo Chun (which I have written about here) to round things off.
On the whole it seemed to be a resounding success and I am already planning an autumn-themed tea for a couple of months’ time…

And a credit to my husband, who took the photos you see on this page, which is why they are extremely artistic and beautifully shot. Thanks honey!