Thursday, July 27, 2006

Mt. Ali-Shan Tea, Possibly the Best Gift…


Growing up in the South, tea was rarely drunk hot. Usually, it was served over ice heavily sweeten with lemon. The best tea was sun tea simply made by putting water and tea bags in the sun all day. It tasted good with strong bite covered by a sugar after-taste.

During an illness, was the only time tea would be served hot at home. It kept the lemon, but the sugar was replaced by honey.

Growing up, the one place that always served hot tea was Chinese restaurants. It came in cups with only two gulps of tea, and the first thing I did after being served was to add a bag or two of sugar.

For me, that was tea as a kid. Growing up, I could not understand why the British and Chinese loved tea so much. Hadn’t they ever tasted a cup of fresh brewed coffee? Folgers’s crystals were better than any tea I ever had.

Before Taiwan, I tried tea with cream, drank loads of green tea in college and graduate school. But tea was still something with little taste that made a mess when I moved the bag from the cup. To tell the truth, I drank tea over coffee, because it had less of a caffeine rush.

Tea in Taiwan is part of the culture, like beer in red states and gin in blue states. It felt like as soon as I landed someone was offering me tea. The Hawaiians have lays; the Taiwanese have cups of hot liquid.

My first and many a cup came at a roadside dinner with dumplings. The tea was hot and sweet. Sweeter than any back home, with the exception of my grandmother who makes instant tea with a ratio of one cup of sugar to half a cup of tea. Unlike the Lipton tea of the South, this tea was strong and loaded with caffeine. Like a double expression at 5 a.m., the tea shocked my body out of jet lag. No wonder, the British and Chinese drank this in the morning. It was an alternative fuel source.

The longer I stayed the differences in tea became apparent. There was the American Lipton brand, which no one on the island nation would think of serving. Green teas and flower teas, which looked like potpourri to the Yankee eye, were clean and crisp used to relax after a long day or walk. There was the thick black tea served at roadside dinner and most tables at home. Then there was the ‘in’ tea of the moment. The tea that was served to guest as an honor and never seen in any of the roadside stands I ate at: oolong.

Oolong has a rich taste without the bitter endings. Caffeine filled, but not the point of exhaustion. The best of the best was high mountain oolong tea. Grown in temperatures that required a jacket, the high mountain tea was worthy of its reputation. Many a person was willing to pay top dollar just for a small cup.

I was a man without a tea making pot. I was ignorant of the proper way to make tea, and the tea I did purchase quality was barely above the roadside stand variety. I enjoyed being a guest in homes and the teas other teachers brought in, simple because I could not get a decent cup on my own.

On teacher appreciation day, one of my classes gave me a can of Mt. Ali-Shan high mountain oolong tea. Mt. Ali-Shan was the closest mountain to Chia-yi. Thousands of tourists each year took the train ride up to witness the sunrise and sunset with snow beneath their feet. My students’ gift of tea from there was not only a gift of local flair, but also the best of it.

The color of the first cup was tan. At first, I thought I had not brewed it long enough. The cheap drink I was used to came to a dark brown in the same amount of time. I sipped cautiously. It tasted good. I went for a larger drink. Smooth with an almost creamy after taste, this was the best tea I had ever had.

Before long, I was drinking cups of it a day. I did not use the traditional Chinese saucers, but American coffee cups. A cup every class, at least; plus, several in between. I shared it with all, but secretly hoped no one would ask for seconds.

I left the tea in the office. Just one of the forgotten items left during the SARS escape. The Camelot of drinking Ali-Shan tea while grading papers or answering e-mails is gone. Every time, I am in a Chinese grocery store, I look for it. As the song says, “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.”

1 Comments:

Blogger Luka said...

Thanks

5:57 PM

 

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