N.P. Lim
The order is often over before you notice it began. A few syllables are spoken across the counter. There is no menu consulted, no pause, no follow-up question. The drinks uncle nods, reaches for a tin, and a few moments later a glass of tea arrives: milky, sweet, and exactly what was asked for. To…
Some teas announce themselves before the cup reaches the lips. The water goes in, and almost at once the air changes. The scent is not grassy or floral but toasted, something like rice left a moment too long in a dry pan. Look into the cup and a few small grains may drift near the…
There are drinks that catch your eye before you even take a sip. A tall cup, fruit pressed gently against the plastic, tea glowing amber underneath. Something about it feels right for a warm afternoon. Light. A little cheerful. Easy to carry. But if you slow down for a moment, some of those cups have…
There is a particular disappointment that comes from making a cup of tea that tastes bitter. You choose the leaves carefully. You heat the water. You wait. Then the first sip arrives, and something feels wrong. For a long time, I assumed bitterness meant the tea itself was not very good. Perhaps the leaves were…
I did not understand oolong when I first encountered it. It seemed unnecessarily complicated. Green tea was green tea. Black tea was black tea. I understood where they stood. Oolong seemed determined to remain somewhere in between. Perhaps that was what initially kept me from appreciating it. Over time, however, I began to realise that…
The colour arrives first. A deep amber that darkens towards red as the tea leaves give up their strength. Then comes the aroma. It is warm and rounded, often compared to malt or the crust of fresh bread. The first sip has weight. It fills the mouth with a rich body and leaves a slight,…
There is a stall near where I grew up that has changed hands twice, but the tea has stayed the same. I still remember the first time I ordered teh o on my own, sometime in my early teens, mumbling the words at the counter and half-expecting to get them wrong. The uncle didn’t blink.…
There is something fascinating about the way we buy tea today. Before we taste the leaves, we have already formed an opinion. The box is elegant. The label is beautifully designed. The colours suggest calm, luxury, or tradition. The story feels carefully written. And before the first sip, we have already decided that the tea…
It starts with a sound. A long ribbon of tea, arcing from one metal mug held high to another held low. The stream catches the light. Then the froth rises, pale and soft, and the whole thing gets poured back and lifted again. Nobody at the stall looks up. This happens a hundred times a…
I have a small confession to make. Sometimes I have absolutely no idea what I am supposed to be tasting. A tea description might promise orchid, honey, toasted nuts, stone fruit, and something wonderfully mysterious called a “long mineral finish.” I take a sip. I taste tea. And then I start wondering if everyone else…