Maria Tan
The room is quiet enough to hear water. Somewhere beyond the paper screens of this traditional tea ceremony venue, a garden drips after morning rain. Inside a tea house on a tatami mat worn soft by years of kneeling, a tea master lifts a bamboo whisk and begins tea making. There is no rush in…
I sometimes wonder if we are drinking tea or remembering something that never really happened. A quiet morning that feels softer in memory than it ever was in real life. A perfect cup by the window that somehow always looks better in hindsight. A tea moment that feels cinematic, even though it probably lasted only…
There is a sound that belongs to mornings across India: the hiss of milk rising in a battered pot, the clink of a spoon against metal, the low murmur of a tea seller calling out to passing crowds. Before the first sip, there is the scent. Cardamom pods, fresh ginger, and cinnamon stick curling into…
I recently tried the Earl Grey from Gryphon Tea Company Singapore, and I have to admit, it surprised me. Not because it was flawless-it wasn’t, but because it felt like a tea that knew exactly what it wanted to be. The aroma is the first thing that hits you. Bergamot is present but subtle, not…
There is a moment, just after the hot water meets the hojicha tea leaves, when the kitchen fills with the aroma of something toasted. Not grassy. Not sharp. Warm, like roasted nuts or the edge of a freshly baked loaf. That moment is where hojicha begins. Hojicha (sometimes spelled houjicha) is a roasted green tea…
I have a tea I return to more than any other. It is not rare. It is not expensive. In fact, most people would probably pass it by without a second thought. And yet, somehow, it has become a quiet companion over the years. I first drank it on a rainy afternoon. I had been…
Singapore moves quickly. The trains run on time, the workdays stretch long, and the humidity outside rarely lets anyone slow down by choice. Yet within this busy rhythm, a quiet counter-current persists. People look for small pockets of stillness, and increasingly, they find one in a warm cup of chamomile tea. There is something fitting…
I’ve always found that tea, more than most drinks, seems to gain something when shared. A cup alone can be comforting, quiet, even meditative. But a cup shared with someone else, whether a friend, a family member, or a stranger in a small tea house, somehow becomes richer, fuller, more alive. It’s not just the…
I never thought much about music in tea shops, until I started noticing patterns. The tea is brewed, the cups are warm, and the aroma drifts through the room. But then the music starts, and suddenly, the entire experience changes. Some shops play classical or soft jazz. Conversations linger. Sips are slow. Even the tea…
I’ve been thinking a lot about waste lately. Not just the kind we notice-the piles of packaging, leftover food, discarded cups-but the quiet, everyday kind: the tea leaves left unused, the leaves steeped once and thrown away, the water poured down because the cup is “not perfect.” Tea has a way of making you notice…