My husband Justin tells me that I have a Tea Problem. Any time we go to the supermarket, even if it's for a dozen eggs and nothing more, I’ll always, somehow, end up in the tea aisle, hypnotized by all the promises:
This tea will wake me up in the morning. This tea will help me fall asleep. This tea will boost my immune system. This tea will combat stress. This tea will write my articles for me. This tea will save the world.
I want all of this.
Justin and I have always said that tea tastes better if someone else makes it for you. (Try it, it’s true.) That's why we love making big mugs of it for each other and anyone who comes over.
A few years ago, though, we stopped making it altogether. My Tea Problem had turned into an organization problem, and our pantry was so overflowing with boxes, it had become its own stressor. Where's the tea for that?
Then I stole a trick from restaurants: a tea box. You know when you’re out to dinner and you ask for tea and the server brings over a box and you get to pick out which kind you want? It’s a small hospitality gesture, but such a pro move: By being given the choice, you feel special.
It turns out—just like so many tricks I've nabbed from working in restaurants—the same is true at home.
The box I ordered is made from bamboo, with a glass top, and little compartments for each flavor. Oh, and it’s only $11.88. A small cost to keeps my Tea Problem at bay, and make every guest who comes into our home feel awake or relaxed or like they can save the world.
And it's great when we aren't hosting, too. Now my favorite part of most nights is when Justin puts a pot of water on the stove, brings me the box, and waits patiently as I take too long to decide. No matter which one I choose: “Good pick,” he’ll say.
Written by: Emma Laperruque
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15 Comments
But I still have more tea! It just isn’t large enough to hold a whole box of each flavor.
The rest are still in their boxes in the pantry.
I love it because it’s a pretty display on my countertop, with room on the top to hold a pewter sugar pot for raw sugar and stevia packets, although I usually drink my tea black.
I’ve been looking for a larger version on eBay and Etsy to hang on the wall.
Maybe an Etsy woodworker will get the hint and make me exactly what I’d like.
But in the meantime, I’ve been using this treasure for over 30 years, and I love it. <3
It amounts to 3 plastic shoe boxes in the pantry, (labeled black, tisane, and green, but actually containing loose, bagged, and tea-I-don't-like) plus a few 1-lb tins of daily-drinking tea in the kitchen by the kettle. It's not a terrible setup when only family members are brewing, but there isn't a graceful way to offer tea to guests. I feel like I might as well be backing up a dump truck!
The positive side of it is that fellow tea lovers can really tell I'm one of their own!
In closing, Sonia, some loose-leaf tea really is wildly expensive, isn't it? Overall, though, I think bags add to the price if it's just ordinary tea. If you have some middle-eastern or Indian markets around, that's a good source for extremely cheap loose-leaf tea. I usually spend around $10 for a pound, sometimes even in a tin! (There are great resources online to figure out which brands are good, so you don't commit to a pound of disgusting tea. Hardly frugal if you end up hating it!) I figured once that, using 1 tsp of leaves per cup, a pound of tea makes 200 cups- 5 cents a cup! That's my kind of luxury ;)
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