Ménage à Tea by Tomislav Podreka

'Eyes the color of tea,' she said. Did she mean the light orange of a Darjeeling, sparkling and bright? The deep moodiness of an Assam, red, so dark, almost black? The rich warmth of a Keemun, reminiscent of the dark ciders of autumn? Or the light hazel peace of a Tung Ting?

I linger over the thought; I almost never want to know the truth. Imagination could be so addictive if curiosity was not such a killer.

If eyes are windows to the soul, then tea can be seen as a reflection of our thoughts. Think about it: We seek infusions that best suit our feelings at any given moment--the brooding intensity of an Assam, the comforting warmth of a Keemun or the sharp edge of a Darjeeling. In this sense, tea blending can be viewed as a kind of poetry. As a blender, you are constantly aspiring to craft a combination that speaks in some way to the drinker. Perhaps you are inspired by a somber winter day that beckons a soothing "companion" tea. Or maybe you want to bring the joy of laughing children into your customer's cup.

So you see, blending is not just the dry, technical act of combining to transform a lesser tea into a better tea or to infuse flavor through the leaf to cater to a popular public preference. Instead, consider it an extension of your personality. But in this sense, the most important element in taking a step toward blending is the release of your ego. The reluctance of many people to recognize their "creations" as unpalatable has placed many unfortunate combinations into the market. Being able to distinguish an exceptional blend from a mediocre one is incredibly important. So if you wish to blend tea, expect to spend countless hours tasting and combining ingredients in hopes of discovering one promising fusion. Also realize that blending demands a keen understanding of origin characteristics. Without a firm grasp of the function, profile, color, and fragrance of each regional tea, your blending endeavors will be difficult and laborious.

While I prefer my tea unblended, unflavored, unscented, and unenhanced, I must admit that there are many times when a single tea cannot stand on its own. The frequency of such instances has necessitated the common industry practice of blending. The prevalence of tea blending has also been brought about by many consumers' penchant for signature teas, often referred to as "gourmet" teas. These infusions can take a myriad of forms. In the strictest sense, a blend is a combination of any number of teas whose whole is greater than the sum of its parts. For instance, a full-bodied Assam combined with a bright Ceylon will marry to create a well-rounded, robust tea that possesses a balance of color, brightness and body. Another common blending practice is to combine the leaves from several gardens in the same region to produce a tea that is unmistakably from that region but from no garden in particular. v But blending entails much more than simply combining leaf with leaf. For example, the addition of flavors to enhance a leaf is a common practice, as illustrated by the ever-popular Earl Grey. Historically, people have blended tea with all sorts of flavors, from ginger, oranges, and assorted flower petals to onions, garlic, and salt. Today, the most common flavoring method is to spray the designated flavor over the tea leaf, thoroughly distributing the flavor through the leaf with continuous mixing. The flavor is then left to dry on the leaf.

Scenting is another category of blending. Typically, a newly plucked flower petal, such as jasmine or rose, is mixed into a tea, and the leaf absorbs the fragrance of the flower. When the petal wilts it is extracted, and then fresh petals are mixed in. This process is repeated until you achieve the desirable degree of scenting.

Finally, there are fruit and herbal tisanes, which are in many ways the simplest blends. Each tisane constituent possesses its own unmistakable character, and unlike ever-changing tea, the basic characteristics of tisane ingredients do not vary much from year to year. Among the most common herbal tisane constituents are chamomile, mint, rosehips, berries, hibiscus, lemongrass, verbena, and, more recently, rooibos and yerba maté. Raspberry leaves and other leaf types that have "hairy" underleafs also make for excellent tisanes, as the hairiness helps trap flavor components.

Once you understand the differences between blend categories, you must ask yourself if and how they might fit into your teahouse's menu. First and foremost, you must understand what kind of retailer you are--do you only deal in rare, limited-edition releases, or do you like to carry the latest best-sellers? My guess is that you strike a balance. In any case, once you're ready to craft your own tea creations, be prepared for an adventure. So off we go to our kitchens and laboratories.

First things first. You need a diverse library of teas and/or tisanes and associated ingredients, such as the various botanicals that may be required for either flavor or aromatic embellishment. You will typically need about four ounces of each ingredient to get started.

If you are not already familiar with all of the teas you are about to work with, taste each variety at least once so that you can gain an understanding of each tea's individual qualities. It's a good idea to use a notebook to record your impressions and actions. When sampling the teas, note the leaf size and style, understanding that disparate sizes and varying styles will not blend well. Note the aroma of each leaf when dry and wet, and record the intensity of fragrance in each state. How does the steeped tea feel in your mouth? Does it have any particular quality that you find unique or extraordinary?

At this point, you should have an idea of what you would like to achieve as a final result, but before going any further, write down what you want your blend to be. Look at your notes and think about what you have written. Based on your observations, which two teas might work well together? Now try to ascertain whether your desired blend profile can be attained from the teas you have on hand.

Pull the teas you might want to incorporate into your blend, and any tea you may be curious about, and set about steeping the leaves. Note that because you are blending, all of the tea should be steeped for the same amount of time, that is, all at five minutes or all at three minutes, etc. Because of this and other restrictions, such as inconsistent leaf sizes, astringency yield, and just plain unattractive dry appearance, like teas should be blended with like teas. For example, blending a green and a black--two teas that demand different steeping times--would not yield desirable results.

Drop a spoonful of each tea into a cup in the amount that you feel would be appropriate. Stir the ingredients, making sure that you record all of the ratios and results as you go. Be quick to throw it away if it has absolutely no redeeming qualities. But if it has some potential, adjust your next ratio and try again.

When you finally arrive at a palatable arrangement, make a dry leaf mix, assuming that the brewing ratios used would be standard--two grams of leaf per six ounces of liquid. Again, the consideration of leaf appearance will come into play. If you have disregarded the appearance of a tea and there is a radical difference in leaf size, you may find that the blend is virtually unusable, as the larger leaf will float above the smaller leaf and the leaves will separate to varying degrees, during even basic handling. When you have created a promising blend, allow the tea to sit for a day or two so that the flavors have time to mingle, and then sample your creation again.

Initially, I would recommend blending a small lot of tea--around a quarter of a pound. After the blend has sat for a couple of days and you have tasted it and you are still pleased with it, try blending a little more--a pound or two--and allow that to sit for a couple of days. Taste it again, and if it still satisfies, you may have your perfect blend on hand! Remember to always keep a record of your first batch. This way, once you have sold out of the blend, you can return to that initial reference and reproduce the results.

The cardinal rule of blending is to develop an objective trust in your own palate. But to do so, you will constantly have to work at tasting and identifying potential ingredients. This may sound tedious, but there is a payoff. Just think of the satisfaction and pride you will feel in leading a customer to your latest creation and watching her admiration as she detects the soft tones of light playing off the subtly incorporated leaves, as she inhales the nuanced aromas of regions just evading perception, and as she savors the singular flavor that is the result of countless hours of experimentation and self-reflection. And as you relish in her delight, you wonder whether your eyes betray your thrill. Your beloved creation has finally met its match.