When I brew tea, it is much more than to hydrate or to have an alternative to coffee. It is a period of reflection—I envisage the past, the present, the future, and being at home within myself is restored. It is a rumination of self-improvement, contemplation, and quietude. To achieve the correct flavour, the correct colour, the correct consistency, the act of brewing tea requires artistry, patience, technique, and a precise scope of practise—it is an art.
Loose leaf tea flavours are authentic; the petals and leaves are less processed and bear transcendental beauty. From the moment my eyes fall upon their intricate textures and I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with their ambrosial redolence, I am carried away to another world and I fall gently into a field with tall grass, graceful flowers, and balletic leaves that dance with the wind.
A beguiling synthesis of Japanese Sencha and the enticing spirit of rose, accented with an embellishment of rose petals, possess a breath of grace and mystery. The chartreuse leaves of Sencha, fragile with accents of oceanic and verdant notes, harmonise with the lush fragrance of rose.
An exhilarant tropical brew of Chinese green and subtle Jasmine teas swathe within a haze of lush rose, marigold, and passionfruit—reminiscent of an afternoon rain and the fever experienced with the rush of young love.
A refined and distinguished concoction of white peony tea and French lavender with revitalising notes of bright grapefruit, at once casual yet opulent, dons its derivation lightly, floating delicately from morning until night.
A beautiful, herbal amalgam evocative of a summer grassland—lemongrass and verbena mingle blissfully with lavender, rose petals, mint, and sage. Airy and inspiriting.
Each tea tells a story. Each one is a circadian reprieve of peace amongst the chaos—my solemnity.