Category Archives: tea

Tea and stollen for the whirled.

Early this morning I waved good-bye to the last Christmas guests as they drove off toward home in Colorado. A few minutes later I was back in bed, and soon after that had fallen asleep while listening to Jonathan Pageau’s podcast on “Christmas: The Anchor of Reality.”

Now it’s afternoon, I just finished breakfast, and decided to try one of the new teas I received recently from Tea Runners. The grandchildren who just departed liked this one, called Winter Wonderland Rooibos. I added half and half, and served up a slice of the stollen Soldier gave me for Christmas.

 

I was arranging my stack of Christmas books and realized that I have not read Winter Fire during either of the Christmas seasons since I got it; it is subtitled Christmas with G.K. Chesterton, and is compiled by Ryan Whitaker Smith. So I opened its pages and browsed a little, and remembered that it is arranged as somewhat of a 30-Day Advent collection. Yet for myself I think it will be a good read in the next few days, as winter has only begun here, and I could use more meditation on the Incarnation, as I process all the events large and small that have whirled around me of late.

There are so many things I want to write about, to highlight here, of our splendid Glad celebrations over the last ten days, but at this point my head is still spinning a bit too crazily, and my heart just wants to go to church, light a candle on St. Basil’s Day and The Circumcision of Christ, and give thanks for all that God has done.

Gift from a friend at church.

Pretty aids to journaling and hospitality.

Last Christmas my daughter Pearl gave me these journals with hardback covers featuring photographs I’d taken and used on my blog. I’m sure she carefully chose from among the hundreds of possibilities, and settled on these exemplary and evocative representatives, of Grandchildren and Fruits From the Garden.

The larger one I’ve been using as a regular journal, and the smaller one as a sort of hospitality journal, to keep track of guests and events, menus and food preferences. I try to write down how various dishes I served were received, and for whom I cooked them, so that I don’t repeat too often.

That makes it sound like I cook for people a lot; I really don’t, but for that reason I tend to fall back on the same dishes, not being in the habit anymore of spending hours planning and executing menus featuring new items. But even if I’m only having a friend over for coffee, I want to remember beforehand if it is coffee, or rather tea she will like to drink.

Jean Edouard Vuillard – In the Garden

Last week a friend and I sat on the patio and drank cold tea from jugs I had made beforehand. They were actually infusions, to be precise; her late husband, a connoisseur of true tea, made with leaves of the tea plant, would have wanted us to use the right word. The options at hand were ginger, rooibos and chicory. And I served a version of the old favorite Wacky Cake, that contains no eggs or dairy, and typically does include cocoa, vinegar, and oil. I was amazed at how many reviewers had altered the original recipe to jazz it up. I took the advice of several cooks and added salt, almond extract, almond flour, and a swirl of almond butter baked in. It was pretty tasty! We each had two pieces with our infusions. I still need to write in my Hospitality Journal that C. likes ginger tea, and Wacky Cake.

Almost Perfect World

Yesterday I got up on the wrong side of the bed. A cup of tea seemed to be in order, and when I saw the special tea blend from Germany, “Perfect World,” I knew it was the right morning to open that package.

 

 

 

 

There is no ingredients list. I sprinkled some leaves out on a plate to give it a look. There are chamomile flowers there, I can see that much.

I poured boiling water over the herbs in a measuring cup, and brewed it what turned out to be too weakly. After a few minutes I put the pretty liquid in a pretty teacup for beauty’s sake. That wasn’t enough tea to direct my mood in any way. I’ll have to try it another time, stronger and in a big mug.

Today I woke up again. Almost before I figured out what side to get out on, my dear, sweet-hearted, only-beloved husband brought me flowers. It’s been a nearly perfect day so far.

Poetry and Tea

It’s a rainy Sunday afternoon, which makes the idea of tea and poetry sound really good, especially if there were a blazing fire near the table that I’d drape with a soft tablecloth.

The picture is from a tea party I gave in honor of my friend Bird, now 98 years old. We like to share our favorite poems with each other when we get to visit.

I will post one in her honor here today.

INTRODUCTION to POETRY

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.

–Billy Collins