The 12 Days of Teamas: Day 2

For any tea novices on your list, soothe their anxieties about making a cup with the expansive Harney and Sons guide to tea gift set ($75).

It includes the fascinating little book A Guide to Tea, which I have and refer to frequently, and a foolproof kit for perfect brewing, including three types of loose tea that are highlighted in the book, a measuring spoon and an instant-read thermometer.

Only an idiot could screw up a cup of tea after receiving this gift. (You may want to keep that in mind, and adjust your expectations of your next recipient-made cup accordingly.)

Don't forget to enter the Tea Spot giveaway!

Just leave a comment on any of The 12 Days of Teamas posts by December 15th, and tell me your favorite tea to give or receive. After I consult my numerologist to pick a random number, Numi's fabulous flowering tea gift set could be yours, absolutely free.

The 12 Days of Teamas: Day 1

It's the holiday question that's been burning in everyone's mind: What to get the tea lover in you life?

Since I love telling people what to do, look no further. Tea Spot will be featuring a unique gift for each of the next 12 days. And my math isn't that bad; I do realize it's more than 12 days till Christmas. But if you're unlike me, you actually do plan ahead and will need to get some of this shopping done before Christmas Eve.

The list opens, appropriately, with flowering tea- Numi's flowering tea gift set ($39.99), which includes a clear glass teapot and nine different varieties of flowering teas, from whites to greens to oolongs, all tucked into a reusable bamboo box.

These teas are as entertaining to watch as they are to drink, and if you have a tea drinker in your life who thinks they've seen everything, it would be perfect.

Lamenting your empty wallet as you consider your list? Well, what makes Tea Spot's gift guide the epitome of all those out there is that you can actually win this very item- all for your selfish self, or for someone on your list.

Just leave a comment on any of The 12 Days of Teamas posts by December 15th, and tell me your favorite tea to give or receive. After I consult my numerologist to pick a random number, today's fabulous flowering tea gift set could be yours, absolutely free. I'll send it to you in one piece and everything. How's that for a happy holiday?

B Is for Bagel

Yeah, I made them. And I'll do it again.

My natural skepticism and burning desire to prove everyone wrong led me to immediately question this simple bagel recipe I found recently. How could just a stirring together of flour, water, yeast and salt- no kneading, no lengthy rise time- make a decent bread?

Call it science, magic, the devil's touch- however you look at it, it really does work. And it makes something fit to have with the most expensive, precious tea you've got stashed away.

It honestly took less time to make homemade bagels than it did to upload these images. What are you waiting for?





You even get to boil them before baking, which is delightfully counterintuitive if you've ever made a yeasted bread before. Or maybe it just seems that way to me because I never lived anyplace that even served cream cheese, much less bagels, until I was in college.

(I was too busy marveling at this stage to document it, so you'll just have to imagine what it looked like.)

And it was hard to pause before devouring the final product:


My other morning discovery, which may sound a little strange coming from a vegetarian: If you have one of these with a cup of Hou Shan Yellow Buds, a Chinese yellow tea, you'll pick up some delicious roasty, bacon-y overtones that I'd never noticed in this tea before. Perhaps it was playing off the salty, seedy taste of the bagel; who knows? Ours is not to reason why.*


*Possibly my favorite thing about writing this entry was researching the origin of that saying, and finding a post asking if it came "from Shakespeare, or maybe Bugs Bunny?"

Red Sky at Morning

I do love mornings. I also love feeling awake for them, which is why I usually pass up tea without caffeine.


I used to have to wake up at 5:30 a.m. for a soul-crushing job on Wall St. that started at 7 a.m.- and that didn't mean brewing my second cup of sencha in the filthy, florescent-lit kitchen or counting the number of tiles as I sat in my favorite bathroom stall then. It meant staring at a screen immediately at the start of my nine-hour day, having to turn sentences written by overpaid, bloviating investors and soulless hedge-fund windbags into useful and concise financial advice, as well as being constantly alert for (gasp) a misplaced comma or a company wrongly tickered NYSE instead of Nasdaq.

I got through it by thinking of the process as swine (the writers) before pearls (the editor). And by reminding myself that as Buddha said, everything is an illusion.

Drinking 10 cups of tea a day helped, too.

Thankfully, I've escaped that Hades. And my mornings no longer have to take place solely before sunrise, so I can actually get through the day without caffeine, if I choose.

Although I almost always reach for green or black tea, sometimes it's nice to let the fruits and herbs of the season determine the morning blend. Pomegranate was an ideal pick, as it's now at the height of ripeness and of course, carries its own underworld-enslavement-breakout tale.

This tart, vibrant, ruby-red brew would also be lovely to cap off a winter dinner party, or simply to welcome those endless holiday guests.

Pomegranate Tea
Makes: 3 cups.

1 large pomegranate, well washed and cut into quarters
4 cups cold water
Few sprigs mint
Few tablespoons honey

Bring pomegranate and water to a boil; reduce heat and simmer, without crushing the fruit, 15-20 minutes or until fragrant and colorful. Stir in mint and honey and strain into glasses.

I know I'll get right back to the Uji tomorrow, but I still can appreciate every sip of this today.

Doing and Eating Good

These peanut butter-oatmeal-chocolate chip and dark chocolate gingerbread cookies could be yours.


All you have to do donate $10 online or bring $5 to the Bonbon Oiseau trunk show tomorrow in Brooklyn. In addition to the bountiful spread of unique designers' jewelry, knitware and stationery (all at steep discounts), there will be a generous raffle basket, the proceeds of which will go to the Food Bank, a nonprofit provider of food assistance and educational and nutritional programs throughout New York City.

(How's that for a run-on sentence?)

This isn't going to be on of those holiday baskets full of things you'll immediately regift, either, like stale chocolate gold coins, a Santa-scented candle and itchy animatronic Rudolph socks. And if you don't win it, there's plenty more cookies and other lovely little gifts for sale.

Come on, I have contact diabetes from all this baking; someone should benefit from that. I'm not done, either. Think caramel, vanilla, matcha, fleur de sel and lots more chocolate- you'll have to come out tomorrow to find out what other sweets will make an appearance.


But first I need to sit down and try some of these for breakfast- just to make sure they're not poison- with a nice cinnamony cup of chai. And to wish myself a happy one-year blogiversary while I'm at it.

Gingerbread Head

Yes, a sniff of a hot cup of tea is lovely, but nothing else brings the feeling of the season into your house as the smell of gingerbread cooking.

And nothing seems quite so perfect for breakfast than a warm square of it- dusted with matcha, of course- alongside a cup of green tea.


I guess you could make gingerbread in July, but it just seems so out of place, like a cat on a leash or a man wearing a fur coat. (I've unfortunately seen three so far this month.)

We're finally to December, however, and one of the only good things about that is that it's time to make this. So get to it. And break out the good stuff to drink with it. I'm sure a nice, strong black tea would be lovely (Assam or Keemun, perhaps), but I went for my absolute favorite Japanese green, Uji Gyokuro, to make this breakfast a special treat on such a cold morning.

Deep, Dark Gingerbread
Makes: 10 to 12 servings.

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
1/2 cup water
3/4 cup unsulphured molasses
3/4 cup dark honey
1 cup packed dark-brown sugar
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground ginger
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/8 teaspoon cloves
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1/2 cup milk
1 packed tablespoon freshly grated ginger

1. Heat oven to 325°. Line a 9x9-inch square or 11x7-inch baking pan with nonstick foil, allowing an inch overhang on two sides.

2. In a medium saucepan, combine butter, water, molasses, honey and brown sugar. Heat over low heat, stirring frequently, until butter is melted and mixture is well blended. Remove from heat and set aside to cool.

3. In medium bowl, sift together flour, baking soda, salt, ginger, cinnamon, allspice and cloves. When molasses mixture feels just warm to the touch, whisk in eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each. Add milk and grated ginger and stir to combine. Fold in flour mixture in three batches; be careful to not overmix (some lumps will remain).

4. Pour batter into prepared pan and bake 1 1/4 to
1 1/2 hours, or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Allow to cool in pan for 15 minutes, then lift out with the foil overhang and let cool completely on a wire rack before cutting.

I'm warning you now, this one's a nibbler. You'll walk past it in the kitchen, willing it to cool faster so you can cut it. But you'll break down after about two minutes, saw a little corner off and eat it. Then you'll need to even the row out, so you'll cut a little more. And eat that.

Just think of it as practice for continued holiday eating.

Tea in Low Places

It's kind of sad that finding yourself sipping a fabulous cup of tea in a restaurant is such a surprise.


But that's what made my recent meal at Esselon Cafe (99 Russell St., Hadley, Mass.) so pleasant. It's mainly an eggs-and-light-lunch type place, but the care lavished on even the simple green salad (with nary a slimy or wilted leaf in the bunch) alongside my tuna sandwich- wisely made with citrus vinaigrette, no mayonnaise- piqued my interest in the cafe's extensive tea list.

I rarely even bother to order tea in a restaurant: It's almost always bagged, and if it's not black, the water is often the wrong temperature. And if you ask for a pot of plain hot water and pull your homemade bag of loose sencha out of your bag, your dining companions may get a little uncomfortable.

Perhaps the mercury was going to my head, but I was feeling brazen. I marched back up to the counter and ordered a pot of Silver Needles ($3.25), a Chinese white tea which requires careful brewing to avoid bitterness or worse, flavorlessness.


Within minutes, it was delivered to the table already brewed, with the loose leaves set on the side. My boldness paid off: the tea was sweet, light and faintly fragrant, and the pot had enough to share with my satisfied lunch dates.

Why can't cafes in New York get their shamisen together and serve tea like this?