By Cal Orey
Tearooms to specialty teas amid the rise of tea trends are growing in
popularity within all age groups of people. During one of my trips to British
Columbia, I visited Shangri-La Hotel Vancouver for a traditional afternoon tea.
I ordered a pot of chamomile tea and the house apricot and current scones. When
the tea server clad in a cheongsam arrived to my table, I was intimidated. In
hindsight, perhaps a high pour of the teapot (like “A Lot Like Love” film
Oliver does for show in the restaurant scene with Chinese flue music playing in
the background) would have impressed her. She left the Blue Willow China tea
pot at my table. I didn’t know I was
supposed to strain the tea. Oops.
Looking down at the wilted leaves in my cup of I sulked: I thought: “How can I drink this? The leaves will get stuck in my teeth.” And, the leaves steeped too long so it was a dark yellow tea. When the server walked past my table, like a child I pointed to the flawed brew. (But at least I didn’t pick up my saucer with the cup.) She replaced the full tea cup with wilted tea leaves floating like dead goldfish. I felt my face warm up and turn red from embarrassment because I failed tea etiquette. I asked for a doggy bag for the pricey scones, and walked out like a pup with its tail between its legs. I should have laughed at my gaffe, and offered a tea leaf reading. But remember, I am a just a health author, not a tea master. What did I know?
Looking down at the wilted leaves in my cup of I sulked: I thought: “How can I drink this? The leaves will get stuck in my teeth.” And, the leaves steeped too long so it was a dark yellow tea. When the server walked past my table, like a child I pointed to the flawed brew. (But at least I didn’t pick up my saucer with the cup.) She replaced the full tea cup with wilted tea leaves floating like dead goldfish. I felt my face warm up and turn red from embarrassment because I failed tea etiquette. I asked for a doggy bag for the pricey scones, and walked out like a pup with its tail between its legs. I should have laughed at my gaffe, and offered a tea leaf reading. But remember, I am a just a health author, not a tea master. What did I know?
Too funny.
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