When I was young, one of my greatest thrills was to be treated to a cup of what I referred to (at least in my mind) as grandma tea. It didn’t matter that I’d never actually called my grandmother that – she was always Grandmother or Auntie Dora or (for a short, very sweet time) Granny Bird (but only by me and by my older brother, for reasons that do not actually matter). The tea remained grandma tea. Or perhaps gramma tea, somewhat of a pun on grammar, since my grandmother was English and very, VERY proper in her use of language.

The recipe that I learned of this mysteriously delicious smoky tea was simply one part Lapsang and two parts loose Lipton’s. At that time, on Staten Island, where my grandmother had retired to, it wasn’t very easy to get other kinds of tea nearby (particularly when you were partially paralyzed from a childhood bout of polio and when you lived with your daughter who neither could drive nor owned a car). But somehow she could obtain loose Lapsang (in a small tan cardboard that was decorated to resemble a wooden crate) and loose Lipton tea (which I believe was simply orange pekoe). I suspect that the mixture may have originally been a cost-saving measure, although the benefit, of course, is making it a little less smoky and thus more palatable for lesser beings than we stalwart Lapsang drinkers. At least once I partook in the creation process, and she even let me help her mix the tea in a large metal mixing bowl. Obviously the lesson stuck, and I felt very grown up to be included in the ritual of making it.

But the real treat was to have a cup or two of it – only ever as a special treat, either in a teapot or using a single serving tea ball. A very little bit of sugar and a very, VERY little bit of milk in the bottom of the cup before pouring the hot tea over it was what I – after much experimentation – found to be the perfect combination. If I was having a single serving, I would make do by adding the sugar first, then the tea ball; pour first the water (letting that steep a few minutes) before adding the Tad Bit of Water^tm to the cup. It was perfect!

That ritual served me well at various moments in my life when necessary: college, young adulthood, broken heart, celebration, whatever moment seemed ripe for such ritual. Even now, after a few years of being primarily a morning coffee drinker (gasp!) I’ve returned to my ritual of tea in the morning, although Lapsang and/or Gramma tea remain a special personal moment, particularly since my partner does not particularly like it. Because I generally use an enormous cup, getting the perfect balance of tea, steeping time, milk, sugar, and temperature still prove elusive enough to make the perfect moments that much more … perfect.

Nonetheless, as is sometimes true with life, taking the steps to carefully go through the ritual in an organized fashion can make MAGIC. Difficult though that task may be someone such as myself who has discovered – rather later in life than is convenient – that she has ADHD (or ADD or Attention Deficit Disorder or Attention Deficit/Hyperactive Disorder or whatever you choose to call it) … (I have ADHD, inattentive type – if you are interested), the magic is strong enough for me to continue to make the attempt. Honestly though, those times when I do NOT carefully go through the steps and the tea tastes … just so, are also … MAGIC. A different kind of magic.

So here it is. My first blog post. For a blog “started” thirteen or fourteen years ago. Thank you, Auntie Dora, for sharing with me so many things, especially your love of and recipe for a blend of Lapsang tea.