茶 (otherwise known as tea)

Tea and I have a history.

As a kid I drank Chamomile. Growing up, before the Starbuck's era, I switched to Lipton black. Later on, Asia introduced me to the joys of green and jasmine aromatics. I still believe there is none better than Jasmine pearls gently unfolding when hit by a splash of just-boiled water.

If you're like me and you're going decaffeinated, you quickly realize that drinking coffee suddenly becomes silly. I like the taste all in all, but in the end, the only reason I ever really got hooked on coffee (along with Coca-Cola, which we'll save for another day) was for it's jittery effect. That gone, what's the point?

For a while teas got shuffled out unfairly, along with the coffee. If I couldn't have my Jasmine tea, what was the point. Most purely decaffeinated teas are fruity herbal concoctions that aren't for me, I scoffed. I've always gravitated towards simple clean flavors. The Brits could keep their milk, thank you!

Tea, however, didn't give up on me.

I soon rediscovered the soothing effect of an occasional chamomile tea enough to actually buy some extra bags for the office. I now have decaffeinated black and green teas galore at home. I've even been, heaven forbid, playing around with milk to cool my tea, even to the point of exploring different Indian chais (the caffeine free bags from Stash are pretty darn good, the red-tea based Oregon Chai concentrate, not-so-much).

All these teas, I've discovered, now have a mellowing effect on me. I've always believed in their medicinal value, but only recently have I come to understand and value the actual ritual of making and drinking it.

With their elaborate tea ceremonies, this is something Asian cultures have long understood. I'd experienced such ceremonies while travelling, but as with many things, I don't think I was at a point in my life where I could internalize that lesson.

suddenly, though, making a cup of tea feels different now for me than making a shot on my espresso machine. It's an active process that demands attention to get it right.

For starters, you have to boil the water. For a proper cup, there is no instant gratification. You have to stop, nurture the tea, steep it. Only when the leaves have given up their essence can you drink it. It's something you have to sip gently. It forces you to slow down, even if just for a few moments.

In my newly decaffeinated world, teas no longer live to keep me awake. Their calming powers seem to be much more powerful anyway.