Tea

[tonyc]

I personally prefer the Taiwan Oolong tea variety. Here are a few good tips for finding quality Taiwan Oolong.

• Inspect leaves for sandy green textures

• Feel the loose leaves for dryness and stiffness

• Take three deep breaths and look for persistent aroma

• Use a ceramic spoon to stir and look for aromatic spoon

[GeneChing]

Part magic, part martial art: Sichuan tea master performs in SF
By Jonathan KauffmanJanuary 23, 2018 Updated: January 23, 2018 2:49pm


Photo: Gabrielle Lurie, The Chronicle
IMAGE 1 OF 4 Xumin Liu pours tea while performing the ancient art of gongfu cha at Z & Y Restaurant in San Francisco.



In the hands of Xumin Liu, a long-spouted copper teakettle becomes a rapier, a whip, a copper-colored wash of light. Three lunches a week, Liu travels from table to table at Z & Y Restaurant, swirling the kettle around his head in intricate circles and letting it pirouette in the air. Every sequence of spins ends with the base of the kettle held high, its yard-long spout lasering a stream of steaming water into a cup of tea leaves.

Xiumin Liu is a master of two traditional Sichuan arts: gongfu tea, poured from a copper kettle with a three-foot spout, and “face changing.” He is performing at two Sichuan restaurants in San Francisco through March 2018.

Liu, 35, was born into a tea-farming family on Mengding Mountain southwest of Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan province. In his early 20s, he studied the 18 forms of “dragon-flying” gongfu cha postures under a Sichuanese tea master named Shifu Chen, then moved on to a Taoist monastery on Qingcheng Mountain to practice a form of martial arts called wushu. The two traditions combine in the fluidity of his movements, and the way he can hold his body at improbable angles for minutes at a time.

Travelers to Chengdu can see tourist performances in teahouses, but few gongfu cha masters make it to the United States. Fewer still are also skilled in Liu’s second art: Sichuan face-swapping.

A decade ago, Liu was demonstrating gongfu cha in Korea when Shimen Lu, a famous face-swapping performer, noticed the young man’s performance and invited him to become a student. This second art Liu now demonstrates at the Hans’ restaurants at dinnertime. To the beat of rousing music, he stalks amid the tables, gold balls on his headdress quivering, face covered with a blue snarl. His red fan flashes past his face and — op! — the blue mask changes to green. You can watch the transformation a dozen times, even getting close, and not see the skill behind the surprise.

When pouring tea Sichuan style, Liu says through a translator, the purpose of the copper kettle isn’t merely aesthetic. The thin stream of water releases the flavor and the aroma in the tea leaves. “The water from this copper kettle is good for your skin, your brain and your health,” he adds.

He has been surprised by the Americans who set their teacups on their heads when he comes by, or merely open their mouths, not realizing the water gushing through the spout of his kettle is close to boiling. Everyone asks for a photo, too. Liu is used to that, at least.

Lijun Han says he asked Master Liu to travel from his home on Mengding Mountain to Old Gold Mountain — the old Chinese name for San Francisco — to introduce Americans to these traditional arts. “This way the tea, the masks and the Sichuan food complete an understanding of Sichuan culture,” Han says. “You no longer see just the food.”

Liu has only been in town for a few weeks, so his impressions of San Francisco are faint. He’s impressed by Hetch Hetchy water, which is very soft, very beautiful, he says. Perfect for making tea.

Xiumin Liu is a master of two traditional Sichuan arts: gongfu tea, poured from a copper kettle with a three-foot spout, and “face changing.” He is performing at two Sichuan restaurants in San Francisco through March 2018.

Last week he toured the city, and the sight of the ocean and the Golden Gate Bridge so inspired him that he began practicing his 18 forms right on the street. “The air is good for training,” he says. “It’s very crisp and clean.”

Z & Y Restaurant: 655 Jackson St., San Francisco, (415) 981-8988 or www.zandyrestaurant.com

Chili House: 726 Clement St., San Francisco, (415) 387-2658 or www.chilihousesf.com

Al Cheng contributed translation assistance.

Jonathan Kauffman is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. Email: jkauffman@sfchronicle.com. Twitter: @jonkauffman

Jonathan Kauffman
Food Reporter

There's some embedded vids behind the link. Looks cool - wish I had the time to chase this guy down for an article but my cup is full right now.

[GeneChing]

Well, I don't smoke, but I do drink alcohol, probably not one drink per day, but there are some days that surely make up for the ones that I skip.

There's a vid behind the link, if you're interested.

HEALTH CANCER
Here's How Drinking Hot Tea Could Increase Your Risk of Cancer
By JAMIE DUCHARME February 5, 2018

Smoking cigarettes and drinking too much alcohol both raise your risk for developing esophageal cancer, which affects the tube connecting the throat to the stomach. Now, a new study published Monday in the Annals of Internal Medicine finds another lifestyle linked to the cancer, this one more surprising: drinking hot tea, if people also smoke and drink alcohol.

Among people who regularly smoked cigarettes and drank at least one drink per day, drinking hot tea was linked to a five-times higher risk of developing esophageal cancer, compared to those who didn’t do any of those three habits. In people who didn’t have those two vices, however, drinking tea did not seem to have a significant effect on cancer development.

“We found that the association between high-temperature tea consumption and esophageal cancer risk was dependent on alcohol and tobacco consumption,” said lead author Jun Lv, a professor of epidemiology and biostatistics at the Peking University School of Public Health in China, in an email to TIME.

In the study, researchers analyzed data from more than 456,000 Chinese adults between ages 30 and 79 who didn’t have cancer at the study’s start. People were asked to answer questions about their tea, alcohol and cigarette consumption. Then researchers followed the people in the study for about nine years to see how many developed esophageal cancer. (About 1,700 total people did.)

The researchers found that people who regularly drank hot tea, smoked and drank alcohol had the highest esophageal cancer risk. Those who regularly drank tea and either drank alcohol or smoked — but not both — also had an increased risk for developing cancer, but it was not as great. People who only drank hot tea did not see a significant increase in cancer risk.

The study was only observational, so a cause-and-effect link cannot be determined. But the authors speculate that hot tea may damage the tissue lining the esophagus, which could increase the chance of injury from other risk factors like smoking and drinking. Another potential way that hot tea may contribute to cancer risk, the authors write, is through the formation of inflammatory compounds, which occurs after repeated irritation to the esophagus.

In recent years, there has been some contradictory information about tea and cancer. In 2016, the World Health Organization concluded that hot beverages above 149 degrees F, including tea, were linked to an increase risk of esophageal cancer. However, tea has been singled out many times in the past for its potential cancer-fighting abilities. Green tea, in general, is associated with a lower risk of cancer.

The findings suggest that tea may contribute to cancer formation under the right circumstances, Lv says, but it’s probably not the main factor at work. “It’s important to abstain from high-temperature tea in excessive alcohol consumers and smokers for esophageal cancer prevention,” Lv wrote in an email. “Of course, keeping away from both tobacco and excessive alcohol use is the most important means for esophageal cancer prevention.”

[PalmStriker]

Good to take note of this article as damaging the esophagus is nothing you want to take lightly. As did the SnakeFist Master in the classic movie "Snake in Eagle's shadow" I myself never really drink hot tea but do consume quite a bit of bottled green tea with lemon or ginseng or honey regularly, at room temperature or chilled. I'm not a smoker, stopped altogether about 10 years ago but drink a pint of beer on a daily basis. Helps me sleep at night and dream vividly. I would advise anyone to not sleep without propping yourself up so that your stomach acids do not attack the shut-off valve to your digestive tract as a double precaution. You will be doing yourself a very big favor.

[GeneChing]

There are videos behind the link.

This Kung Fu Tea Master Is Basically Tea Bae
Like salt bae, but you know, with tea
by Caleb Pershan Feb 20, 2018, 5:00pm PST


Monica Wong/Z & Y Restaurant

For the past few weeks, Xumin Liu has thrilled San Francisco diners by filling teacups from his sword-length copper kettle at Z & Y Restaurant and Chili House. The performance shines in the age of Instagram, but it’s actually an ancient practice known as gongfu cha or “kung fu tea,” a thousand-year-old art.

Liu, a 35-year-old master practitioner, spins his kettle and pours hot tea with the precision, seriousness, and panache of “Salt Bae” — the chef and restaurateur Nusret Gökçe whose graceful salt sprinkling brought him viral internet attention. But as one commenter points out on a video of Liu (taken by none other than Chez Panisse founder Alice Waters) the tea master might make Salt Bae look a little bit lazy. Plus, he’s playing with even hotter stuff.

Of course Liu, like Gökçe, who just opened his first New York restaurant, is much more than a pretty face and impressive gesture. For one thing, Liu’s got several poses, all of which he learned studying under a Sichuanese tea master. And for another, gongfu cha isn’t the only trick Liu has up his sleeve. He’s also a master of the art of bian lian, or “face swapping,” a dance that involves switching traditional masks at lightning-quick speed.

Z & Y and Chili House owner LIjun Han brought Liu to San Francisco, where he’ll continue to perform for the next two weeks. On Mondays and Fridays during lunch and dinner he’s at Z & Y Restaurant, and on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, he’ll be at Chili House. Liu will also perform kung fu tea at 7 p.m. on Sundays at Z & Y before switching hats — or faces, as it were — to perform his face swapping routine afterward.

Z & Y Restaurant
655 Jackson St, , CA 94133
(415) 981-8988

More on Xumin Liu

[GeneChing]

If you've never done true gongfu cha with a master, it's truly a magical experience.

Time for tea, kung fu style
Tan Weiyun
15:00 UTC+8, 2018-04-14


Ti Gong
Ye Hanzhong performs Chaozhou kung fu tea ceremony, which involves water, heat, cup and skills.

Ye Hanzhong does not like to be labeled a “master.” As heir to the national intangible heritage of the Chaozhou gongfu (kung fu) tea ceremony, the 55-year-old prefers to call himself “a tea boy,” who plays and creates art of tea.

“I never thought a tiny green tea leaf would carry so much knowledge, like a giant treasure house that has given me so much fun,” he says.

Always in a traditional Chinese silk jacket when appearing in public, Ye loves the media spotlight.

As a cultural heritage heir and businessman at the same time, Ye is often questioned about his motives. Last year there was controversy when he charged his apprentices 38,000 yuan (US$6,000) for teaching them tea skills.

However, that merely served to ferment public opinion and shine a spotlight on the gongfu tea ceremony. From being popular only in the Chaozhou area, it swept the country.

“I’ve received lots of criticism and misunderstandings over the years, but I won’t quit what I’m doing now — to promote the Chaozhou gongfu tea ceremony and carry it forward,” Ye says.

Born in Fenghuang Town, in a mountainous region in Chaozhou, south China’s Guangdong Province, which is known for its tea trees, Ye has been engaged in the tea industry for more than 30 years. In 1986, he took over his father’s job in the state-owned China Tea.


Ti Gong
Ye Hanzhong picks tea in a plantation in Chaozhou, Guangdong Province.

As a tea apprentice, he learned the tricks of the trade bit by bit, from tea picking and processing to blending, brewing and tasting.

“They couldn’t be learned from books, but from the experienced masters,” Ye recalls.

Gongfu literally means any study, learning or practice that requires patience, energy and time to complete. Kung fu tea is about the ceremonial way of making good tea, which takes time and energy, something the Chaozhou people have been doing well since the Tang Dynasty (AD 618-907).

The art is in knowing how to brew a good cup of tea tailor-made for different individual tastes — with a strong or delicate aroma, a flowery sweet or fruity acidity, an immediate rich flavor in the mouth or a long lingering aftertaste. Ye can make you a cup to order, by adjusting the water, heat, cup and his skills.

“Good tea leaves can definitely make good tea, but we Chaozhou people can improve the flavor of just-so-so tea leaves,” Ye says.

A number of factors other than the tea itself can affect the final flavor — the size and shape of the cup, the height, speed and angle of the water poured into the cup, as well as the temperature of the water itself.

Chinese drink tea for two major reasons — fragrance and flavor. For those who love fragrance more, Ye advises selecting a teacup with a thin porcelain layer, because it wouldn’t absorb too much heat. When the boiled water is poured in, the fragrance is given off immediately. Also, the amount of tea leaves should be less than usual.


Ti Gong
Ye Hanzhong smells the fragrance of a tea.

For poorer-quality tea leaves, Ye suggests choosing a teacup with a thick porcelain layer, which will absorb the heat quickly and reduce any bitter taste or harsh smell.

For those who like to enjoy flavor more than aroma, Ye also has his methods. Lowering the height of the water when it is poured into the cup, keeps its temperature higher, which helps keep the flavor well and create a long, lingering aftertaste. The amount of tea leaves should be a little more than usual.

“So the Chaozhou kung fu tea ceremony can cater to different tea drinkers, which takes individual taste, drinking methods and tea types into consideration. It makes tea that you like and you think good,” Ye says.

Blending different tea leaves to create new fragrances and flavors is Ye’s speciality. Taking advantage of varied tea leaves’ features, he can create teas with fragrances and flavors of honey, sweet lychee, dried plum, almond, osmanthus, orchid and magnolia with strong long-lasting aftertastes. “See, I’m just like a perfumer and a flavorist, who balances and plays with teas,” he says.

Ye was once invited to blend a new tea type, easy to brew and catering to the public taste, for the Mid-Lake Pavilion Teahouse at Shanghai’s Yuyuan Garden. “The public taste means everyone can find what they like in the tea,” Ye says.

By blending several kinds of tea leaves, he created Yelaixiang, a new tea with a slight orchid aroma and a rich, lingering aftertaste, which received thumbs-up from visitors. Yelaixiang is now one of the top 10 classic kung fu teas.

Ye says teacup plays an important role in good tea. The shape, material, thin or thick sloping sides of a teacup will result in totally different tastes.

A pottery cup is good with old tea leaves, helping change the tea to be mild and smooth, while a thin porcelain cup can bring out the fragrance best. Ye once tried a pottery cup, which impressed him greatly. With just one sip, he realized the cup was unique.

“It must have been soaked in water for a long time, I thought. And later they told me the cup had been buried in the Yangtze River for centuries and was an antique once collected by the British Museum,” Ye recalls. “It made the tea mellower and milder than usual.”


Wang Rongjiang / SHINE
Ye Hanzhong tries a tea at an event promoting Chinese tea culture at Yuyuan Garden in Shanghai.

How to taste a cup of good Chaozhou kung fu tea correctly? Ye advises pressing the lower lip against the thumb that holds the cup. Then sip the tea while taking in air at the same time, which makes a not-so-elegant sound.

“The tea temperature has been lowered by the air when it gets in the mouth, and at the same time it fills the mouth, leaving a mouthful of fragrance,” he says.

The final step is to smell the still hot tea leaves in the cup and smell them again when they cool down. Chewing a little in the mouth is one way to show respect for the person who made the tea for you.

“To some extent, Chaozhou kung fu tea art shows the characters of its people, known as ‘Oriental Jews,’ who are good at doing business ─ balance, sharing and respect,” he says.

Ye has just finished a textbook on the Chaozhou kung fu tea ceremony, the first textbook of intangible heritage to be included in the country’s education system. He quantifies and standardizes traditional skills which had been passed down by word of mouth for centuries.

“It’s a practical guidebook for vocational school students, giving them a clear career plan. I think only in this way, the tea art can be smoothly carried forward by future generations,” Ye says. “I was lucky to learn from those old masters and now I’m glad to share what I’ve learnt with more young people.”


Ti Gong
Source: SHINE Editor: Liu Qi

[GeneChing]

Diplo, Billie Eilish & Drake? srsly? Green tea better not go all hipster on me.

Drake-Backed Green Tea Startup Lures More Musicians to Wellness Trend
MatchaBar, a Brooklyn tea startup, is the latest example of music and wellness culture intersecting
By AMY X. WANG


Diplo (center) with brothers Graham and Max Fortgang, who founded MatchaBar.

Rock & roll had cigarettes and beer; the most influential rappers of the 2000s favored tequila and vodka. But as a health and wellness movement sweeps the millennial set, today’s musicians are striking deals and partnerships in the fitness industry – a space once considered the pinnacle of uncool.

One company rising up in that realm right now, for instance, is MatchaBar, a Brooklyn-based green tea startup in which Drake invested last year. On Tuesday, MatchaBar announced that it has completed a $8 million Series A round with the help of additional celebrity investors like producer Diplo, pop singer Billie Eilish, football player Von Miller and actor Ansel Elgort. The brand, which sells matcha-based energy drinks in New York and at nationwide stores like Whole Foods, considers itself a natural alternative to other caffeinated beverages like Monster or Red Bull, which have traditionally ruled the energy drink market.

Health is a clear emphasis – both from the brand and the artists backing it. Diplo, in a statement accompanying the company’s Tuesday announcement, praises the “clean, healthy ingredients” and “healthy lifestyle” of MatchaBar’s drinks; Billie Eilish says “it’s just tight that there’s finally an energy drink that’s actually healthier.” But while such messages would’ve sounded odd coming from chart-topping musicians a decade or two ago, it’s no longer off-brand for big artists to advertise personal care and wellness. Musicians in 2018 – rappers especially – are speaking candidly about fitness and mental health. Many are recording socially conscious music (or so-called “positive rap”) and putting their names on promotional campaigns for exercise and nutrition. Record labels are using Zumba, a health-oriented dance craze, to help break artists. When Drake was announced as a lead investor in MatchaBar last August, cofounder Graham Fortgang said the rapper embodied the startup’s key idea: that “good things come to those who hustle.”



That’s not to say that music’s traditional partnerships with liquor brands and other less health-minded industries are going out of fashion. Millennials account for almost half of the United States’ wine drinkers and musicians aren’t cashing out of the lucrative world of spirits and liquors any time soon. But even the alcohol industry is hopping on the wellness trend: At recent iterations of Governors Ball, Afropunk and other music festivals, for instance, the promoted drink of choice was a single-serve, portion-controlled wine sold in recyclable capsules – and created by none other than Interscope Records.

I might add that I was gifted a lot of fine tea from visiting masters at TCEKFMCX for which I am very grateful.

[GeneChing]

Anyone ever try this?

Tai Chi Tea: Beware of TM Infringement
August 27, 2018 Dennis Crouch



Diamond Hong owns the Tai Chi mark shown above on the left and Tai Chi Green Tea is has the mark on the right. Are these confusingly similar if both used in the hot beverage market?




The PTAB sided with cancellation petitioner and senior mark holder Diamond Hong and the Federal Circuit affirms here. Zheng Cai, DBA Tai Chi Green Tea Inc. v. Diamond Hong, Inc. (Fed. Cir. 2018).

A difficulty here is that Zheng Cai represented himself pro se and did not exactly follow either TTAB or Federal Circuit procedure. In particular, Cai presented a set of factual assertions and images in his brief, but did not follow the particular brief filing rules. Because of the procedural failure, the TTAB refused to consider the materials presented — finding that Mr. Cai “introduced no evidence.” As Manafort can attest — it is difficult to win a case without presenting any evidence. On appeal, the Federal Circuit affirmed the TTAB procedure with two main points:

The TTAB has authority to manage its own procedure; and
Mr. Cai’s Main Brief contains numerous assertions of fact without actually introducint the supporting evidence — i.e., no evidence.
In a cancellation proceeding, the moving party still has the burden to make its case. Here, the Federal Circuit affirmed the confusing similarity (Applying the DuPont factors). The court writes:

The marks are similar, when considered as a whole, because they both invoke a large yin-yang symbol and prominently display the term TAI CHI.

Cancellation affirmed.

= = = = =

Interesting backstory: On the same day this case was released supporting Diamond Hong’s Mark (No. 3966518), the USPTO also cancelled the mark. “Registration cancelled because registrant did not file an acceptable declaration under Section 8.”

Dennis Crouch
About Dennis Crouch
Law Professor at the University of Missouri School of Law.

THREADS:
Taiji products, marketing, and branding
Tea

[GeneChing]

Oh this deserves its own thread for sure, but I'm copying it to our Tea thread too.

I love tea.
I love cheese.
I must try this.

Cheese Tea Could Be the New Bubble Tea — If Americans Get Over the Name
Tea topped with cheese foam has been stuck on the cusp of trending stateside
by Esther Tseng Sep 21, 2018, 9:12am EDT


Cheese tea Theerawan/Shutterstock
“Cheese tea? What’s that?”

Mention it to anyone who’s hearing about it for the first time and you’ll likely get a scrunched-up nose and a look of confusion. Perhaps even a shake of the head. To many Americans, the combination of tea and cheese sounds downright unappetizing. But, as any cheese tea purveyor will tell you, cheese tea tastes better than it sounds. In fact, the drink isn’t that different from bubble tea, which is now firmly entrenched in the mainstream. And given cheese tea’s popularity in Asia, as well as the successful migration of other Asian desserts (like matcha-flavored sweets and shave ice) to major U.S. markets, cheese tea should be on its way to making it big in America. So what’s taking so long?

Cheese tea is the name for cold tea (usually green or black tea, with or without milk) topped with a foamy layer of milk and cream cheese and sprinkled with salt. The drink is sweet, like boba, but has a savory finish. Using a straw is prohibitive to getting enough of that tangy cream overlay, so the method of sipping it from the top of the cup at a 40- to 45-degree angle is integral to enjoying cheese tea. Shops that specialize in cheese tea, like international franchises Happy Lemon and Gong Cha as well as independent shops like Steap in San Francisco, Little Fluffy Head in Los Angeles, and Motto in Pasadena, supply a lid, not unlike a coffee lid, that circulates just the right amount of air for sipping and shields the drinker from a foam mustache.

The drink originated in the night market stands of Taiwan around 2010. Back then, vendors combined powdered cheese and salt with whipping cream and milk to form a foamy, tangy layer on the top of a cup of cold tea. In 2012, the topping caught on in Guangdong province in China, where purveyors behind upscale tea salon HeyTea (formerly RoyalTea) began using real cream cheese in lieu of powders and combined it with fresh milk to concoct a premium version of the savory and salty topping. At HeyTea, cheese tea soon became a phenomenon, with lines long enough to wind around the block and wait times of two to three hours.

Today, cheese tea is popular in other parts of Asia as well, including Hong Kong, Singapore, and Malaysia. And it’s become part of the menu of longstanding tea houses that had previously made the bulk of their business selling bubble tea drinks and other desserts. In major cities in China, some tea franchises sell an average of 1,000 cups of cheese tea per day. The drink is so popular in Japan that Japanese beverage company Kirin plans to create a bottled version. “[The Japanese] have come up with their own version of cheese tea and it’s really successful in Japan,” says Jenny Zheng, a consultant for Kirin and founder of Little Fluffy Head, the Downtown LA tea shop that specializes in cheese tea. “They have a totally different reaction than Americans, like, ‘Oh, cheese tea? That sounds delicious!’”

Stateside, however, where cheese tea sometimes goes by other monikers, like “milk cap,” “cheese mouse,” and “milk foam,” the beverage is still waiting to achieve widespread popularity. “The concept of cheese tea sounds too weird for [Americans] to try. People associate cheese with pizza,” says Zheng, who was also initially skeptical of the drink. “Now when you put [cheese] into a drink, it just sounds weird.”

Uber-popular bubble tea brand Boba Guys seemingly agrees. It poked fun at the off-putting image the name brings to mind in an April Fool’s spoof in which it joked it would sell its own Instagram-friendly teas topped with cheese “ranging from the highest-quality Brie and bleu cheese to toppings including Kraft singles and Cheez **** (perfect for layering!).” And even prolific Taiwan-based bubble tea franchise Gong Cha — which actually sells cheese tea — wasn’t confident that cheese tea as it’s sold in Asia would appeal to customers in the U.S. “Last year they introduced cheese-flavored milk foam, so it’s saltier and cheesier and they only carry it [in Asia], probably because we weren’t sure how it would go over with the American market,” says Anchal Lamba, president of Gong Cha USA. Gong Cha stores in New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, and Texas only offer the franchise’s signature milk foam, which lacks the salty, cheese flavor of its cheese tea option.

But there are signs that cheese tea may yet become a bonafide trend in the United States. The drink has many of the elements of foods that have achieved not just everyday recognition, but viral fame. At cheese tea shops, black teas are topped with tiramisu creams, salty milk foam floats above green teas, yielding picturesque tumblers with contrasting colors and a variety of flavor combinations. And in 2017, food media started speculating about cheese tea as a hot new craze. Although predictions that cheese tea would overtake bubble tea in popularity haven’t quite come to fruition a year later, independent cheese tea shops are starting to succeed in the U.S. by making direct appeals to the American palate.

At Little Fluffy Head, Zheng offers customized milk cream toppings such as cheesecake cream, creme brulee, white chocolate cream, and tiramisu, along with an additional option to pre-swirl the toppings throughout the drink. Emil DeFrancesco of Steap in San Francisco’s Chinatown sources mascarpone from neighboring pizzaiolo Tony Gemignani to create his signature foam top. “[Steap] is more of an American brand. I’ve got drinks like mint julep and Southern sweet tea — flavors that people might be more familiar with,” says DeFrancesco. Johnny Li, who opened Motto in Pasadena in March, batches his labor-intensive “cheese mousse” twice per day by simmering cheese and refrigerating the topping without stabilizers, which means that once he runs out, customers will have to wait until the next batch to get their fix. He offers a Nutella mousse for those with a hazelnut affinity, though his cheese mousse is still the best-seller of all his toppings.

While independent shops in the U.S. are customizing their cheese teas to their respective urban markets, franchises from abroad such as Happy Lemon, headquartered in Shanghai, and Gong Cha in Taiwan are well positioned to capitalize on the drink’s popularity in Asia by opening locations stateside. What preset menus, ready-to-go marketing, and predetermined ingredients lack in creativity, they make up for with an established reputation as an extension of an overseas brand.

“There’s always a line, often with over an hour wait, whenever we open a store,” says Jasmine Chin, a managing member of the Happy Lemon, based in San Francisco. And, she adds, the customers are largely diverse. “People of all ages come and they want to get a cup of coffee, which is great, because then sometimes they’ll try cheese tea for the first time,” says Chin. Chin has seen cheese tea enthusiasts at Happy Lemon locations requesting multiple layers of cheese foam, sacrificing even the level of tea in the cup. “You can order less of the tea and more of the cheese,” she says. “Sometimes people get triple layers of cheese; some people even say they want cheese on the side. They’ll save it to add later on.”

Boba shops that sell cheese tea are also helping the drink spread by putting cheese tea in a more familiar context. “It’s actually good for us that there’s more boba shops selling cheese tea, because it makes cheese tea more common,” says Zheng. “They’re competitors, but [their presence] makes it easier and more accessible to the general public.”

But for cheese tea to reach boba-level popularity in the U.S., tea drinkers need to get over the name and become more comfortable with the foam layer on top of their drink. In the meantime, the country’s existing cheese tea shops recognize that samples are essential to opening minds. “For the most part,” Chin says, “95 percent of the time [newcomers to cheese tea] say, ‘It’s cool! I’ve never had it and I would’ve never thought of it, and it’s good.’”

Esther Tseng is a freelance writer based in Los Angeles who has also contributed to the LA Times, VICE, Outside, and more.
Editor: Monica Burton

[GeneChing]

China has a tea habit – and it means big business
China’s ready-to-drink tea market was worth US$11.7 billion by the end of 2015
PUBLISHED : Tuesday, 01 January, 2019, 9:21pm
UPDATED : Tuesday, 01 January, 2019, 11:04pm
Yujing Liu
yujing.liu@scmp.com
https://twitter.com/yujingliu_



From delicate kung fu tea ceremonies to trendy cheese-topped bubble milk tea, China boasts a vibrant tea drinking culture that has also translated into big business opportunities. According to the China Tea Marketing Association, as many as 500 million people were drinking tea-related beverages in 2017 – and most of the new converts were young people.

The market for ready-to-drink tea products reported double-digit growth annually from 2006 to 2011, and continues to grow as more people shift to healthy, natural drinks, according to market research company Mintel Group. It was worth 81 billion yuan (US$11.7 billion) by the end of 2015, according to market research company GroupM Knowledge Center.

Shares in Hong Kong soy milk and lemon tea maker Vitasoy, for instance, soared by about 50 per cent in 2018, riding the fast expansion of its mainland China business.

But Vitasoy is hardly a big fish in the highly competitive red ocean that is China’s tea market, where drink makers are racing to develop new tea drinks and more exciting flavours such as sparkling tea.

One of the most successful tea brands in China is Master Kong Iced Black Tea. A household name and a leading player, Master Kong produces a wide range of instant noodle and drink products.

Its iconic iced black tea became a national hit after its launch in 1996. Together with its Taiwanese counterpart, Uni-President, Master Kong helped iced tea become one of the most popular drinks categories in mainland China over the next decade.

It enjoyed 48 per cent market share of the ready-to-drink tea sector in China as of the third quarter last year, making it the top player, according to research group Nielsen.

The brand is owned by Hong Kong-listed Tingyi (Cayman Islands) Holding, which is headquartered in the northern city of Tianjin. It has formed partnerships with global peers PepsiCo and Starbucks to aid their expansion in China.


Singaporean singer Stefanie Sun in an advert for Uni-President’s iced black tea. Photo: Handout

Uni-President, the Taiwan-based food conglomerate and rival of Master Kong, first introduced iced black tea in 1995. It gained popularity partially thanks to endorsements by Singaporean singer Stefanie Sun and Canadian entertainer Avril Lavigne, who were popular among Chinese youth at the time.

A decade later, in 2015, Uni-President launched a new tea drink called “Classmate Xiaoming” to attract younger customers. Its colourful packaging, which featured the cartoon of a cheerful boy, won the hearts of school pupils and millennials alike.

Together with another new fruit-flavoured drink, Classmate Xiaoming contributed to more than a tenth of the company’s revenue of 22 billion yuan in 2015.

Uni-President had a 25 per cent share of the tea drinks market in 2015, according to an annual report. It posted a 1 per cent increase in its tea products revenue in 2017 – which stood at 6 billion yuan – from the year before.


Nongfu Spring’s Tea Pai is endorsed by Chinese-Canadian actor, singer, and model Kris Wu. Photo: Handout

Domestic bottled water giant Nongfu Spring has followed in the footsteps of Uni-President to develop tea products with a young and fun vibe.

Its Tea Pai, with flavours such as peach oolong, citrus green tea and lemon black tea, reported sales of more than 1 billion yuan in the three quarters following its launch in 2016, becoming one of the most popular tea drinks in China.

Nongfu Spring announced in July it would introduce a sparkling tea drink – a carbonated, fruit-flavoured tea. It also said in December 2018 that Chinese-Canadian actor, singer, and model Kris Wu will endorse Tea Pai.

This article appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition as: Firms tap growth of tea-drinking trend on mainland

Honestly, I prefer the Japanese bottled ice teas over the Chinese ones. Some of those are really pricey, like $15 a bottle (I'm not paying that much for any drink unless it has alcohol).

[GeneChing]

Japanese Company Creates Sea Creature Teabags That “Come Alive” Inside Your Cup
Product Design
By​ Rugile

There’s nothing more enjoyable than a delicious cup of tea after a long day. Despite the fact that the tea business and culture is absolutely booming, the traditional design of the tea bag has not changed for many years and it’s definitely time to take a more creative approach at the ordinary tea packaging. Here’s where the Japanese company, Ocean Teabag, comes into the picture with their adorable tea bags that will definitely make you crave for a cup of tea.



The brand Ocean Teabag has teamed up with an oddity shop as well as a bookstore, Village Vanguard, to create a series of animal-themed teabags.



These original tea bags include jellyfish, octopus, isopods and even a few land animals such as tanuki.



Once added to the cup, the tea bags make it look like a creature is swimming in your tea. Now that’s something definitely worth capturing for your Instagram.



Tea bags cost 1,820 yen which is around $16. In an interview with Bored Panda, creators of the company told us that the company started 3 years ago and their first design was a dolphin tea bag that later grew into more unique designs. Currently, the team consists of 10 people, but it seems with the popularity they are gaining, they might need to grow soon.



The squid-shaped tea bag is filled with black Pu’er tea that was inspired by squid ink and it also has a sweet persimmon flavor added as well. Meanwhile, the octopus tea bag is filled with Keemun tea.



Even though the octopus and squid-shaped tea is the most popular amongst buyers, there are also other adorable options such as a penguin-shaped tea bag that is filled with Chamomile tea.

continued next post

[GeneChing]

The Ocean Teabags team also shared with Bored Panda that they are planning to grow by creating moving as well as glowing tea bags in the future. Now, there are more than 50 types of unique tea bags in their online shop.



When it comes to the tea tradition, the records state that tea was first served in Japan by Emperor Shomu in the year 729 during a very special Buddhist ceremony.



At first, tea was associated with Japanese nobility and was regarded as a type of medicine. However, after the tea ceremony was invented at the end of the 16th century, tea eventually became something drunk by both nobles and commoners alike. In 1859, tea finally became something to be used every single day and not only on rare occasions. (Not so) fun fact: tea leaves in Japan used to be tediously hand-rolled until the 19th century. It was boring work that seriously restricted tea production. However, things eventually changed for the better with technological improvements.



Tea in Japan is massively consumed due to its health benefits. Unfortunately, Japanese tea production is at an all-time low, meaning the next time you want to have a taste of delicious Japanese tea, you might just have to travel to the Land of the Rising Sun.

$16USD is steep for a teabag. Oh, pun not intended.

[GeneChing]

In Chengdu, Kung Fu Tea Is Torn Between Tradition and Performance
A martial arts-influenced style of pouring tea is catching on in China.
BY JORDAN PORTER JUNE 20, 2019


Performances with copper kettles are becoming increasingly popular attractions in Chengdu. CHINA PHOTOS/GETTY IMAGES

KUNG FU TEA MASTER ZENG Xiao Long sits humbly in a small tea room, inside a massive courtyard in Chengdu. Dressed up in stone and bamboo to resemble an ancient Chinese village, the courtyard features an outdoor teahouse, a canteen, a public vegetable garden, and a handful of peacocks to complete the aesthetic. “When you say kung fu tea, you probably don’t mean what we do when we say kung fu tea,” Zeng says, pouring hot water over tea leaves in a gaiwan, or three-piece tea cup. Using the lid to hold the leaves back, he pours the tea into a small glass decanter, and then into thimble-sized teacups.

“This is also kung fu tea. In fact, this is what it really is,” he says. “You are probably talking about the long-spout teapot performance.” He motions to the banged-up copper teapots with spouts two or three feet long, leaning against the wall behind him. A small group of Chinese tourists enter the room, which serves as Zeng’s office. The leader introduces Zeng as the country’s most famous and best long-spout teapot performer. She doesn’t mention that he is also this art’s creator and one of its original ambassadors.



Chengdu today is famous for its long-spout teapot performances. In theaters, boisterous restaurants, and touristy performance areas throughout the city, young men and women perform martial arts sequences, acrobatics, and dances, all while daringly twirling, throwing, and spinning long-spout teapots around their heads and bodies. The vibrant copper pots are filled with hot water, which dramatically makes its way into the teacups of lucky patrons.

This is often called kung fu tea, but it is not in fact martial in its art or origins. Only a few true wushu moves make their way into the choreography. The word kung fu (功夫), in most cases, refers to arts or disciplines mastered through hard work and diligence, where a greater understanding is ultimately achieved. In this way, it also refers to the ancient Daoist tea ceremony. Disciples study for years to properly perform this much less dramatic ceremony, which emphasizes restraint, subtle hand movements, and tea sets that are petite and pretty. This type of tea ceremony is often viewed as a form of meditation, and it’s the more widely known version of kung fu tea.


Subtle movements and elegant tea sets are a feature of traditional kung fu tea. ALEKSEI POPOV/ALAMY

Long before Zeng twirled pointed copper pots and performed acrobatics, he knew little of tea or of kung fu. He was born in 1977 into a farming family in the Da Zhou region of Sichuan, east of Chengdu. He explains that in this mountainous region, people lived and worked in long, narrow buildings built into the hills. In local teahouses, cramped spaces made long-spout teapots a necessity, so patrons wouldn’t be moved or interrupted by the reach of the waiters refilling their cups with hot water. While long-spout teapots were a local custom, the young Zeng wasn’t very interested in tea. He moved to Chengdu to work in a restaurant, and found himself barely scraping by in the big city. A job ad for a tea master caught his eye with its lofty salary, inspiring him to throw in his table-cleaning towel and buy a long-spouted teapot.

At this point, the long-spout teapot performance did not exist. There were, however, contests where participants gracefully performed the original kung fu tea. But “there was really only one motion for pouring tea from a long spout,” Zeng says. Without a background in the arts, martial or otherwise, Zeng developed his own idea of what a tea performance should be, incorporating elements of tai chi and kung fu from TV and performers he’d seen. In 1999, he entered a tea ceremony competition, and with his unique movements and flare took second place. While there were objections over his flamboyance, a new tradition was born.


A group of young tea-servers learn the long-spout teapot performance. CHINA PHOTOS/GETTY IMAGES

Soon, Zeng and a small group of fellow performers began meeting to develop new, more athletic, and spectacular tea-pouring movements. They grew in popularity, with Zeng making a series of high-profile TV appearances, including a performance during China’s 2013 New Year’s Gala which thrust him into national fame. Zeng notes that while some of the others are still involved in the tea industry, he is the only one who stuck with performing. With his growing celebrity status, students sought him out as a teacher.

While kung fu tea as a cultural performance is a relatively new phenomenon in Sichuan, the history of tea here is deep and rich. Mengding Mountain, just 120 miles east of Chengdu, is traditionally considered the place where tea was first cultivated some 2,000 years ago. And tea house culture, whether featuring the short-spouted teapots of the Chengdu plain or the long-spouted ones of the mountains, is an essential part of the region’s identity. “A tea house is a little Chengdu, and Chengdu is a big tea house,” author Di Wang notes in the opening of his book The Teahouse: Small Business, Everyday Culture, and Public Politics in Chengdu. Today in Chengdu, there are over 13,000 tea houses serving as the spots for local gossip and information exchange, as well as rest stops for tourists basking in the beauty of Chengdu’s famous leisurely lifestyle.


A typical, bustling Chengdu teahouse, sans any long-spout teapots. RYAN PYLE/GETTY IMAGES

For the most part, tea culture in Chengdu is unpretentious, more the setting for socializing than the high art of the tea ceremony. But Wu Bo, a young local tea master, worries that the sensational nature of the long-spout tea performance belittles the art of tea itself. She says the performers often understand very little about tea, its history, and its culture. “Some of them don’t even use hot water, it’s just a dance,” she says. “And for many, it’s not about tea, it’s just a job.” To her, true kung fu tea is the opposite of performance, and almost minimalist in its expression. “You can spend all your money on fancy teaware, or learn special movements, but a real tea master can make great tea in anything,” she says.

But performance plays an important role in modern Chinese travel, and cultural displays are consumed voraciously by domestic tourists. Travelers don historical or regionally specific clothing for photo-ops at recreated historic sites to celebrate their history. Even on television, cultural performances and costumed dances entice tourists to new places where they can do more than sightsee. According to Claudia Huang, a Chengdu-born cultural anthropology PhD, performance represents a more meaningful form of consumption for young Chinese people than the purchase of commodities. “This phenomenon of performance serves as a way to celebrate and glorify China’s own cultural history, in a quick and easily digestible way,” she says.


While long-spout teapots are traditional, performing with them is fairly new. CHINA PHOTOS/GETTY IMAGES

Zeng’s style of kung fu tea has certainly become a calling card of the city of Chengdu, and synonymous throughout China with Sichuan tea culture. However, he fears that performance itself is not enough to give the art meaning, and actively takes time to pursue the study of tea. He requires his disciples to study as well, sometimes forcing them away from their athletic training to sit down and actually learn how to pour. “I feel a responsibility,” he says. “I am the creator of the long-spout teapot performance. I need to make sure my students learn about the real kung fu tea as well.”

He echoes Wu Bo’s sentiments that most young people study kung fu tea so they can make money. Zeng has hundreds of disciples. For more than 80 percent, he says, this will just be a job. “The market is good right now, there is a big need for performers, and after only a few months of practice you can earn a good wage for performances,” he says. Someday, he believes, there will be a ceiling. Wages will fall, and fewer and fewer people will choose to study this new art.

All but retired from performing, Zeng sits in his office and sips tea from a small cup, his gaze drifting towards the future. “It is my dream to build a tea house some day, where the long-spout teapots can also find their place again off the stage and are used in their original fashion,” he says: simply to pour tea.

Gastro Obscura covers the world’s most wondrous food and drink.

I really need to get an article on long-spout teapots someday...

Meanwhile, I'm creating an indie thread for Long-spout Teapot Kung Fu. The posts above are from our general Tea thread.

[GeneChing]

This is a common legend but for anyone unfamiliar, here you go.

Heather Johnson Yu·April 15, 2018·8 min read
The Mystery of the ‘Two Finger Tap’ at the Dim Sum Table



I remember the very first time I went to eat Dim Sum. I was in my second year of college and visiting my LDR boyfriend at the time, a snarky Taiwanese guy who had moved to California as a teenager. I had so far enjoyed going to his favorite restaurants, as they had always proved to be crazy delicious.

This time around, I had no idea what kind of learning experience I was in for; I just knew that as those doors opened and the glorious smells wafted from the kitchen into the waiting area, I was going to be in for a treat.

Once seated, I found myself unable to take in all the new information quickly enough. The establishment was a sight to behold — dozens upon dozens of large, circular tables seating entire families dotted the floor with servers dashing quickly between them, zipping from the kitchen to the hungry masses and back again.

But all eyes were on the carts that slowly but steadily chugged along, like merchants peddling wares through a busy street, calling out the names of each plate as they made their journey through the crowd. A steamed bun or a sizzling dish might catch the eye of a peckish customer, and the cart would stop to unload its treasures. The steamer would land with a “clunk” on the table, and the employee would hastily scribble the name of the dish on a piece of paper before speedily turning on her heels to find more ravenous patrons.


Image via Wikimedia Commons / Mailer diablo (CC BY-SA 3.0)

“Shu Mai!” Clunk. Scribble.

“Cha Shu Bao!” Clunk. Scribble.

“Xiao Long Bao!” Clunk. Clunk. Scribble. Scribble.

Carts kept coming through, and steamers kept piling up; the taller the tower, the higher the accomplishment, and the more satisfied the customer.

As this was a new experience for me, I couldn’t help but ask questions at every turn. “What is this one called?” “Can you repeat that in Mandarin?” and “What is in this bun?” was almost on repeat. My seemingly endless queries would be met with valid explanations at first, but after some time my then-beau’s patience began to wane. “Try it, you’ll like it.” “Just eat it.” and “It’s bull testicle.” (he was kidding).

But there was one thing that stood out to me in particular; when the servers would refill our tea cups, he always tapped two fingers on the table. When he first did it, I thought he was perhaps drawing attention to that particular area of the tablecloth, as if it needed cleaning or something. But after the second time, it became evident that this was done on purpose after something specific occurred.

My curiosity got the better of me. “Why’d you tap your fingers on the table after the server poured your tea?” I asked.

I expected a smart-ass answer (something about bull testicles), but what I got was an unexpectedly fascinating tale.



According to legend, there was an emperor named Emperor Qian Long who wished to travel the world as common people did. He wanted to see life through the eyes of his people without the all the fanfare and prestige that would otherwise be a normal part of his existence. So he donned the outfit of a commoner and required his servants to treat him as an equal.

Of course, this must have been unfathomable for those accompanying him on his journey, but who were they to go against the emperor’s requests? So they went along with it, walking in step with the royal in disguise.

Eventually, they came to a restaurant and the group was served tea. The emperor, very committed to the ruse, took it upon himself to pour tea for his servants. This was beyond shocking to the servants, who would normally have to show their gratitude for such an honor by bowing or some other manner befitting of an emperor. But to do so would reveal his true identity, and the jig would be up — everyone would know that their ruler sat amongst them.

So the servants came up with a simple way to thank their emperor for the gesture — tapping two fingers on the table after the tea had been poured. That way, they could express their thanks to Emperor Long without arousing suspicion, enabling the party to continue their travels without giving away their real selves.

(This also proved to be quite a practical mannerism, as tapping on the table was far less disruptive to the conversation than turning and thanking the server. The gesture stuck and has survived to modern day usage.)


Image via Wikimedia Commons / WiNG (CC BY-SA 3.0)

The story may seem small to some — maybe even trivial — but at that moment I became absolutely enamored with Chinese etiquette. Mannerisms and phrases seemed to hold more meaning, and I wanted to know the captivating tales behind them all.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t to be during this meal — just as he was finishing his story, a cart full of delicious food passed us by, and he couldn’t help but cheekily take another dig at my ignorance.

“Oh look, your favorite–“

“Let me guess, bull testicle?”

“No, taro puffs. Don’t be racist.”

He grinned from ear to ear, the joke he’d cracked at my expense too good to pass up. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, making a mental note to get him back later. Taking a sip from my recently filled cup, I accepted the fact that I couldn’t learn the etiquette and nuances of an entire culture in one afternoon; instead, we drank tea and ate dumplings, laughing the day away and enjoying our time together.

Feature Image via Wikimedia Commons / Lain (CC BY-SA 3.0)

THREADS
Tea
Dim Sum - dian xin

[GeneChing]

HOW A SCOTTISH BOTANIST STOLE CHINA'S TEA AND CHANGED INDIAN HISTORY
By Pallabi Munsi


Packing tea in the warehouses of the East & West India Dock Company, London, 1874.
SOURCE GETTY
WHY YOU SHOULD CARE
Because tea is the world’s second-most popular drink after water.

Robert Fortune knew his tea. In 1843, the Scottish botanist sailed to China, funded by the Royal Horticultural Society, to study the varieties of the drink grown there that had become hugely popular in Britain. But when the British East India Company reached out to him in 1848 and requested he return to China, it was for a very different mission — this time not to study, but to steal.

By that time — more than 2,000 years after the Chinese first started sipping tea and two centuries after the British fell hard and fast for the drink — the British East India Company had lost its trade monopoly in China, and the supply of drink had ebbed even as demand grew.

That autumn in Shanghai, Fortune shaved and put on what he later referred to as “Mandarin garb” to tour a tea factory in disguise as an official from a different Chinese province. The superintendent showed him around the factory, where workers plucked, brewed and dried the precious tea.


Little did they know that Fortune was at their factory on a mission: to steal tea seeds, understand how to harvest and process tea and take the stolen goods — and ideas — to India where the British East India Company planned to start a competing tea operation in a bid to end China’s monopoly over the trade. But Fortune’s actions would put India on a path to become one of the world’s leading producers of (and markets for) tea. According to the India Brand Equity Foundation, total Indian tea exports last year were valued at $837.33 million, and India is the second-largest tea producer in the world after China.


Robert Fortune.
SOURCE GETTY

Although “Chinese Tcha,” as English diarist Samuel Pepys wrote, “was first sold to England in 1635” — approximately at $1,200 today’s price for a pound of the herb — China controlled the growing and production of tea until well into the 19th century. Britain couldn’t produce its own tea, and for a time depended on poor quality leaves imported to Europe via the Netherlands. Later, the U.K. strengthened ties with China in order to secure tea in exchange for silver, but dwindling coffers saw Britain switch from silver to opium, which it grew in parts of British-controlled India.

In 1788, the East India Company first considered just growing the tea in India, which would allow Britain to access the drink at far lower prices. The company discovered wild tea saplings in Assam, which eventually spread to Darjeeling in North Bengal. According to a lecture delivered at the Royal Society of Arts in 1887, shoemakers and carpenters from the Chinese settlement in Calcutta were taken to these plantations “presumably on the belief that every Chinaman must be an expert in tea cultivation and manufacture,” even though many of them had never seen a sapling in their lives.

“Assam tea was important because up until that moment, the British did not really think tea could be grown anywhere other than East Asia,” says Sarah Rose, author of For All the Tea in China. “This wild sapling gave them the idea that tea could be grown in India.”

After returning from his mission, a very proud Fortune wrote to the company: “I have much pleasure in informing you that I have procured a large supply of seeds and young plants which I trust will get safely to India.” Altogether, he’d collected 13,000 plants and 10,000 seeds. He spent months packing them in glass bottles that allowed them sunlight and just enough air to survive long travel, then smuggled them to Hong Kong, where he put them on a ship bound for India. But the ship was diverted from Calcutta to Ceylon (modern-day Sri Lanka), and by the time it reached the East India Company’s botanical outpost, the seeds had all rotted.

In 1849, he tried again, stealing thousands of branches from the Wuyi Mountains, famous for black tea. Fortune and his new Chinese servant Sing Hoo hired local children to help them collect seeds and they also bought saplings from a nearby monastery. He took the specimens to Shanghai and once again packed them off to India, this time with soil inside their glass bottles to allow them to germinate and grow on the way.

Until then, India was a land of coffee. But during Fortune’s lifetime, India would surpass China as the world’s leading producer of tea. Tea in India slowly supplanted coffee crops: It could be grown at higher altitudes, and a fungus infecting coffee plants hit in 1869, speeding coffee’s demise.

Later in his life, Fortune would go back to China to obtain tea seeds for American planters interested in growing the crop in the Carolinas and Virginia, a dream that fizzled out after the Civil War as plantations no longer had slave labor to exploit. When Fortune died in 1880, his estate — which included some of the tea seeds he had stolen — was valued at about $5 million. Just one year later, a shop specializing in Indian tea had opened on London’s Oxford Street, and stalls and shops around the British capital were pushing Indian tea.

But tea still wasn’t popular among Indians themselves. Considered an anglicized drink, it was mostly consumed by British immigrants and those who associated with them. It wasn’t until after independence in 1947 that the Indian Tea Board launched an advertising campaign for the beverage, converting Indians to consume the tea that had previously been exported to Britain. Now, India is the second-largest consumer of tea — known as chai — after China. In fact, tea is right now the world’s second-most popular drink after water. And Indian tea is no longer second best: This August, a rare Assam tea sold for a world record price at an auction in India: $2,035 for just two kilograms of Maijan Orthodox Golden tea.

Pallabi Munsi, OZY AuthorContact Pallabi Munsi

innerestin spot o history.