I have a small habit that I never really noticed until recently.
The weather changes, and somehow, so does the tea I want.
On a hot afternoon, I find myself reaching for something light and floral. When rain settles over the windows, I want something darker, warmer, perhaps a little more comforting. On those rare mornings when the air feels cooler than usual, I suddenly want a tea with more body.
It is almost as if my tea cupboard has its own weather forecast.
Of course, Singapore does not give us four neat seasons. We have heat, rain, more heat, and then rain that somehow feels even heavier. But even here, I notice these small shifts in what I want to drink.
Maybe it is not really the weather changing the tea.
Maybe it is changing me.
There is something about a warm cup of tea on a rainy afternoon that feels almost instinctive. The same tea I might ignore on a bright, humid day can suddenly feel exactly right when rain is tapping against the window.
And I don’t think this is entirely about temperature.
Tea carries atmosphere with it. A bright green tea can feel refreshing. A roasted oolong can feel comforting. A fragrant black tea can make an ordinary afternoon feel slightly more deliberate.
We often talk about tea in terms of flavour. Floral. Smoky. Nutty. Sweet. But I think we sometimes forget another quality that is harder to describe.
Mood.
I have teas in my cupboard that I associate with particular kinds of days. One reminds me of slow mornings. Another has somehow become my rainy-day tea. There is one I reach for when I need something familiar, even if I cannot explain why.
None of this was planned.
I certainly did not buy them thinking, “This will be my rainy afternoon tea.”
It just happened.
Perhaps that is one of the more personal sides of drinking tea. Over time, we stop choosing tea purely for what is in the leaves. We choose it for what we want the moment to feel like.
That is why I find tea collections so revealing.
Two people can own the same teas and reach for completely different tins on the same day. One person may want something bright and refreshing. Another may want something deep and comforting.
Neither is wrong.
The tea is responding to the person, not the other way around.
So lately, when I stand in front of my tea cupboard deciding what to brew, I have stopped asking which tea is technically the best.
I ask a simpler question.
What kind of day is this?
Sometimes, the answer is enough to tell me which tin to open.
Pryce Tea: A Modern Pour with Old Tea-Room Ambitions
I visited on a weekday afternoon, around three, when the city had quieted into that particular lull between lunch and the evening rush. I’d been curious about Pryce Tea for a while, mostly because the brand keeps surfacing among people who talk about teas the way some people talk about wine. With a reputation built…
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The Seasons in a Tin: How Weather Shapes What I Reach For
I have a small habit that I never really noticed until recently. The weather changes, and somehow, so does the tea I want. On a hot afternoon, I find myself reaching for something light and floral. When rain settles over the windows, I want something darker, warmer, perhaps a little more comforting. On those rare…
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Ginger Lily Afternoon Tea on Orchard Road: A Floral Chapter in Singapore’s Culinary Story
I noticed the ginger lily flowers before I noticed anything else. Not real ones, exactly. A wall of them, suspended in resin, catching the light as I stepped off the lift on Level 5 at Hilton Singapore Orchard, home to Ginger Lily, a floral-themed afternoon tea lounge on Orchard Road. I stood there a second…
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Minimalism, But Make It Warm: A Simpler Way to Drink Better Tea
There is a certain irony about tea. The more we learn about it, the easier it becomes to complicate it. A simple cup of leaves and water slowly becomes surrounded by equipment, measurements, techniques, and expectations. We begin collecting teapots, comparing brewing methods, and searching for the perfect setup. None of these things are wrong….
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A Humble Cup in an Age of Overdesigned Drinks: iTea Review
The bubble tea I queued for last month came with a caramelized brûlée top I had to crack with the back of my spoon. It was fine. Pretty, even. But somewhere between the torched sugar and the cheese foam and the third topping I didn’t ask for, I lost the drink itself. So I went…
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Matcha Hype Has Gone Too Far (But I Still Drink It)
I have a confession. I am slightly tired of seeing matcha everywhere. Not because I dislike matcha. In fact, I drink it quite often. But there is something amusing about watching a humble tea become the centre of every café menu, wellness conversation, and social media trend. Matcha has gone from a traditional Japanese tea…
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Hortus Afternoon Tea Review: When the Garden Becomes the Occasion in the Flower Dome
I forgot, for a moment, that I was indoors at Hortus, the Mediterranean restaurant nestled within the Flower Dome at Gardens by the Bay. There were trees above me, real ones, and the air held that cool, green stillness you usually find early in the morning somewhere far from the city. A leaf drifted down…
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The Real Reason Your Tea at Cafés Tastes Flat
There is a particular disappointment that comes with ordering tea at a café. You see the menu. You notice the carefully written descriptions. Perhaps there is a mention of fragrant jasmine, roasted oolong, or a carefully selected blend. The presentation arrives beautifully arranged, and for a moment, there is anticipation. Then you take the first…
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Herbal Tea in Chinese: A Cup Shaped by Heat, Balance, and Belief
The first sip was bitter. I was maybe seven, and my grandmother had pressed a small ceramic cup into my hands, dark liquid inside, steam curling up between us. She didn’t explain. She just said, “Drink. You’ve been too heaty.“ I made a face. She didn’t smile. She just waited until I finished. Years later,…
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Maybe Your Favourite Tea Is Not Your Best Tea
I have a tea sitting in my cupboard that I would never call my “best” tea. It is not the rarest. It is not the most expensive. It does not come with an impressive story about ancient tea trees, remote mountains, or a limited harvest. And yet, I drink it more often than almost anything…
