15 July 2008

Drinking and Driving

After lamenting the sorry state of iced tea in the cosmopolitian borough of Brooklyn, I was a bit apprehensive about a week and half's journey on the road and into the lush depths of Kentucky.

I was pleasantly surprised, however, by what I could rustle up in rest stops and otherwise unimpressive restaurants along the way. It may be a far cry from what I make here, but Southerners do know their iced tea.

Combined with my now practiced cold-brew technique (and armed with a few ounces of Megami sencha), I didn't go a day without tea, even if it meant setting up a plastic bottle of Kentucky tap water and green tea in a mud-encrusted cooler in the back of an increasingly ripe van for the night.

When I retrieved it each morning at 6 a.m. and sat on a curb to watch the sun rise over the verdant, ancient Appalachian mountains, I thought about the essential role place plays in enjoying any food. Sipping tea to a cacophony of chirping birds and bats, instead of bus horns and babel, I could have been halfway across the world from New York.

Just the act of making and consuming tea, though, connects me to wherever I find myself. It requires a patience and concentration that fosters an incredible appreciation of where you are when you drink it.


Teep said...

all I gotta say is.... NICE

Bonbon Oiseau said...

welcome home--glad you could get your fix down there!

Dave's Blog said...

My iced tea is famous!!!!

Penelope said...

Like the juxaposed pictures there and the somber tone. Does justice to week somehow.