Coffee and Tea

On a more than passing basis people have been kind enough to comment on the quality of our iced tea. Personally I am of the opinion that iced tea is somewhat akin to pouring coke into Glenmorangie but as we say, when in Smalltown do what Smalltownies do. (Actually I made that up, no one says that, they normally say “Aint no sense in flogging a pullin’ mule” or something equally profound). Back to the point. The reason that the tea tastes good is that we actually use tea! If you think that would be a given, check out the powder and syrups that your local chew and spew uses. The problem with doing the right thing is that when you make tea you have to use boiling water and clearly it is still damned hot by lunchtime. If you ice it up then the ice turns to water and you have a nasty insipid drink that neither refreshes nor enriches the soul. So with a brilliant flash of inspiration I decide at the end of each day to freeze a ziplock back of tea. Now I can make fresh each morning and then float in a huge ice cube of frozen tea. The iced tea is now iced and not watered down. Je suis une rock star baby.

As is my want I like to perform a spot of quality control each morning so I have sippers of the French roast, decaf, flavor of the day and so on. The boss isn’t too happy when she discovers half her pastries have disappeared but it is a tough job that someone has to do. This morning, having checked out the caffeine offerings I moved onto the iced tea.

Have you ever been at a party when in a state of mild intoxication you have grabbed a beer and chugged away only to discover that you have picked up the can that has been used as an ashtray? Warm beer and ash followed by a butt or two caught deep in the back of your throat. That is the exact experience that sent me sprinting to the bog in a frenzy of retching and gagging. The taste was all the more shocking for being diametrically opposite to what my taste buds expected. No smooth slightly tannin nectar, this was like tasting the south side of a Pekinese that is heading north. What on earth was this? It didn’t take to long to discover that the frozen brown ziplock was in fact French Onion soup to which I had mixed fresh hot tea. For most people this would be the serendipity that makes their fortune. You know the thing, the bad batch of writing paper that invents blotting paper or the bad glue batch responsible for Post It notes. No such luck for me, tea and onion soup just make a vile emetic and the distillers of Tequila have already invented that.

Now I need to tie a piece of pork fat to a length of string so that I can pull it up and down my throat and take the taste of the tea away.

TGIF, TCB