syrinx

Susan's article on tea reminded me of my Irish roots and our deep love of that beverage we call tea. My grandparents came from the deep rural area of Southern Ontario that was populated by Irish immigrants during the potato famine years (mid-1800's). Even though they were born here in Canada, their parents, Irish to the bone, raised them with strong Irish traditions.

As a child I recall visiting my grandparents and watching Grampa "putting the tea on"... This involved setting an old pyrex tea pot on the stove, bringing the water to boil and then tossing in a handful of tea leaves. But wait. It doesn't stop there. Oh no. After the tea had steeped for a bit you could drink some of it. But before the pot was empty you had to add more water and more tea leaves. The pot itself stayed on the stovetop all day long, with the stove element set on low so that the concoction brewed all day long. It was only at the end of the day that the pot would be emptied, the leaves put on the garden bed, and the process started again the next morning. The pot itself would only be washed with soap once or a year, and between washings it would slowly build up a patina of rich, black-brown tannin on the inside of the orignally white teapot.

In my 20's I had the opportunity to go live in Ireland for two months, studying Gaelic, and living with a Gaelic family. Imagine my surprise when I watched the mother of the family 'put the day's tea on' one morning. She filled a tall metal tea pot with water, brought it to boil on the peat stove and tossed in tea leaves...and sure enough, she kept it going all day long! By evening meal, the tea was strong enough to dance on, and would have eaten a teaspoon if it had been left in the cup. But it was heavenly all the same.

These days I still like good, strong black tea, although I have not gotten into the habit of day-long steeping. The advent of tea bags and quick boil kettles has made that kind of preparation unnecessary...but sometimes I think it's also because it's just not the same if it's not in Grampa's old pyrex teapot.

tags: tea story irish