Pro Tip: You Don't Lick It

Maggie was in town, and unfortunately it was pouring rain. “I want tea,” she had said, and so we found ourselves folded into Cha-An, a tiny Japanese tea house in lower Manhattan, with Alice and Laura. Everyone else ordered normal tea, and I ordered the oolong. Oolong, I thought, was exotic enough to feel special (the place oozes with a unique cozy/fancy vibe) but familiar enough not to feel weird.

“The oolong; it’s the kind that you pour and pour with the little things.” said the waitress, heavily accented and seeming to struggle with English.

“It’s what now?”

“You get the little… and it comes with the tea…” she made a pouring motion again.

“Ok.” I said, not knowing at all what I ordered. “Sounds great.”

When she left I shrugged and smiled. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

She arrived at the table with this whole… set up! It was a tall metal pitcher of hot water and a wooden box slightly smaller than a shoe box, on top of which was the following: a big glass tea pot, a small clay tea pot, loose tea in a little glass container [not pictured], an empty white porcelain cup just smaller than a shot glass, and a small ceramic tea cup with no handle. There was also a bowl containing a few lumpy, frosted green tea cookies which were pretty good.

She put the dry tea in the glass pot and then poured the water over it to brew. She poured the brewed tea into the little clay tea pot, and from there she poured it to the tea cup, then the porcelain cup, and and then she dumped it out into the wooden box which had slats to drain into itself. She did it all a second time. On the third series of pouring she dumped brewed tea from the tea cup all over the little clay tea pot, and then she handed me the little porcelain cup.

It was hot from the tea, but empty and dry. I was confused, but she was looking at me expectantly so, in one of the more awkward moments of my life, I touched the tip of my tongue to it a few times and glanced up to see if I was doing it right. I wasn’t. She laughed, and pointed to her nose.

“I think you’re just supposed to smell it.” said Laura.

“Ahh!” I said, and sniffed it. It smelled like tea. It was one of those “appreciate with all of your senses” moments, so I tried to concentrate on appreciating the aroma and not being embarrassed about the inappropriate licking. I handed it back, and the waitress smiled, set the two tea pots, the hot water and the ceramic cup in front of me and shuffled off.

Now, should you find yourself in a similar fancy tea place, you know what to do. You’re welcome.

P.S. If you go, try the scones. OMG, the scones!