7:00 a.m. Quick, some tea! The first of the day. It reminds me of my mother's friend who, when he woke up, lit a cigarette from the ashtray on the bedside table – another era.
7:01 But before that, drinking water is a chore. “Because tea is not water,” I learned my lesson well.
7:02 I gulp down half a liter from the bottle while trying not to end my life as a couple #noisesdebouche…
7:10 a.m. Kettle with adjustable temperature on full blast… 90°C, pure black tea that burns the throat. Thrill.
7:35 a.m. Brushing your teeth, black tea is good, but it’s hard to “get back”.
7:45 a.m. End of brushing – I have “Visitors” teeth.
7:55 a.m. My other half screams from the depths of the kitchen “We’re tired of old teas lying around everywhere”. Between us, “old teas” has become a nom de guerre.
7:56 a.m. It must be said that the shelf is overflowing with varieties: black, white, green, red, but also Pu Erh – perfect for humid weather. Not to mention the many teapots, my birthday present for ten years.
7:57 a.m. Air of disgust on the part of said half at the sight of the “disgusting things at the bottom of the sink” (in reality, leaves of a grand cru which costs an arm and a leg in a Chinese pharmacy where two elderly sisters sell vintages of 'exception to the weight, a bit like opium and at the same price).
8:00 a.m. Attempt to introduce the reluctant half to the refined pleasures and ancestral benefits of Fresh Harvest green tea. SO ? “I feel like I'm grazing. »
8:30 a.m. In the street, I hold back so as not to enter the first Starbucks for a chai latte.
9:00 a.m. Damn, I forgot my mini insulated bottle!
10:00 a.m. In the editorial office, I wander around looking for a cup, a mug, a cup, in short, any container, a vase will do the trick!
10:10 a.m. Dr Aga makes me promise this is my last plastic cup.
An addiction from getting up to going to bed
10:11 a.m. I swear, and, barely having my cup in hand, rush off in search of a bag. All the drawers are closed, until a good soul (Dr Aga disguised as a third year intern) offers me an infusion. Rather die!
10:15 a.m. Dr Aga finds that I spend my life drawing hot water, whereas a good rosé served chilled…
10:23 a.m. Finally, I find a Lipton at the cafe, the deal is done.
10:30 a.m. During the conference, I warm my hands on the hot cup, and discreetly place my sachet in a cup lying around to reuse it.
12:00 p.m. Contentment of the girl who managed to make three cups with an “infusette”.
My other half thinks that at this price, I'd be better off drinking for real
1:00 p.m. Lunch at the jap' with ELLE's friends, I order a jasmine tea, for fear that green tea will absorb my iron – or prevent it from being stored, I never know…
1:00 p.m. Unless it’s “peri-menopause” as my son, 14, would say all the time.
2:00 p.m. I hover around the water fountain in my raincoat, under the suspicious gaze of Dr. Aga, knowing that we will have to wait another two and a half hours until tea time, set for 4:30 p.m. I'm cold.
3:30 p.m. Let's say it's 4:30 p.m., heading to Jugetsudo, a venerable Japanese house. Hot water boils in a cast iron pot on a wooden counter, steam rising to my head. Served in a cup as big as a thimble, the elixir has the color of gold.
4:30 p.m. I am transported by tea (lots of puns in the specialized shops: Palais des Thés, Thé-ritoires, Atout sanThé atmosphere, etc.).
5:00 p.m. End of the ceremony. On the phone, my other half thinks that at this price, I'd be better off drinking for real.
6:00 p.m. A last one for the road ?
7:30 p.m. Crisis of said half who “won’t wash one more cup”!
7:35 p.m. It's true that the cup is everything, and that porcelain, like enamel, is hard to “get back” (white vinegar + baking soda).
8:00 p.m. Last attempt to convert your loved one: take them to a chic restaurant where a “tea sommelier” operates.
8:28 p.m. Apparently, the new spritz is genmaicha infused with mineral water.
8:48 p.m. After twenty minutes of discussing the picking to find the perfect tea-food pairing, the sommelier opts for a glass of Jasbire, “a white tea from Nepal harvested in spring, lively and lively, whose taste blends perfectly with the earthiness of beet “…
8:50 p.m. … followed by a Meung, “a permaculture black tea from Laos, with undergrowth aromatics, very at home with meat or game”.
9:00 p.m. Served in a (stemmed) glass, (cold) tea resembles (white) wine.
9:01 p.m. “Don’t you have a cup of wine?” » exclaims my other half.
9:02 p.m. I try a diversion and sing “Tea for Two”.
11:00 p.m. In bed, the ax falls: I scatter it everywhere, I'm overexcited, I get up at night… “Don't you want to go red instead? »
11:01 p.m. Rooibos?
