I used to think comfort was supposed to be easy.
A familiar drink. A familiar taste. Something that immediately made me feel better.
For a long time, I gravitated towards teas that were gentle. Soft flavours. Natural sweetness. Anything that felt welcoming from the first sip.
Then I started appreciating bitter teas.
Not because I suddenly changed my preferences, but because I began to understand that comfort does not always arrive in the form we expect.
Some teas ask us to stay a little longer.
They do not immediately offer sweetness. They introduce themselves slowly. There may be a bitterness at first, a sharpness that makes you pause.
And then, if you give them time, something else appears.
A deeper flavour.
A lingering finish.
A character that was hidden beneath the first impression.
I think tea teaches us this better than almost anything else.
We live in a world that often encourages us to avoid discomfort. We choose the easiest option. The quickest reward. The most immediately satisfying experience.
Tea does not always work that way.
Some of the most memorable teas are not the ones we love instantly. They are the ones we learn to understand over time.
A roasted oolong with a slightly bitter edge. A green tea with a stronger vegetal character. A tea that feels unfamiliar at first but slowly becomes something we look forward to.
Perhaps this is why bitterness has become something I appreciate.
Not because it is pleasant immediately.
Because it feels honest.
There is something refreshing about a tea that does not try to hide what it is. It does not cover itself with sweetness or ask for approval. It simply presents itself and waits for us to decide.
And maybe people are like that too.
Some things we appreciate instantly. Others take patience. Some people, places, and experiences only reveal their value after we spend enough time with them.
Tea reminds me that not everything meaningful needs to be effortless.
Sometimes, the things that challenge us a little are the things we remember most.
I still enjoy sweet and comforting teas. I still love a cup that feels familiar after a long day.
But I have learned not to dismiss bitterness so quickly.
Because sometimes, what we first mistake for a flaw is simply another kind of beauty waiting to be understood.
— Maria Tan
On tea, culture, and everyday rituals.
Why “No Bitterness” Is a Terrible Goal (And Makes Tea Boring)
I used to think a good tea was supposed to be smooth. No bitterness. No sharp edges. Nothing that made me pause and wonder whether I was doing something wrong. It seemed logical. We naturally gravitate toward things that are easy to enjoy. A tea that is sweet, gentle, and immediately comforting feels like a…
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Best Tea Brands Singapore: 10 Names Worth Knowing
There’s a small sound I’ve always liked. It’s the soft knock of a teapot lid settling back into place, just before the first pour. It happens at home. It happens in old shophouses and in bright mall boutiques like those in Suntec City. The setting changes, but the pause stays the same. This list is…
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“Rare” Tea Is Often Manufactured Scarcity: Here’s How to Tell
There is a word in tea that carries unusual power. Rare. It immediately creates curiosity. A rare harvest. A rare batch. A rare tree. A tea that may never return. The suggestion is simple: if something is difficult to obtain, it must be more valuable. Sometimes, this is true. Some teas are genuinely limited because…
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LiHO Tea Singapore: A Greeting You Can Drink
Some words carry a whole childhood inside them. Li ho. I heard it at kopitiam tables, across corridors, from uncles who never waited for a real answer. It meant “how are you,” but it also meant I see you. So when I saw that name on a tea shop sign, somewhere in the middle of…
The Myth of “Perfect” Tea: What I Stopped Chasing
For a long time, I thought I was looking for the perfect tea. I imagined there would be a moment when I found the one. The tea that made every other tea feel unnecessary. The tea I would recommend to everyone. The tea that would finally make me understand what true appreciation was supposed to…
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Teh O: Understanding the Tea Order Behind the Name
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….
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Stop Buying Tea for the Aesthetic: How Packaging Hijacks Taste
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…
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A Tea Table in the Clouds: The Westin Singapore High Tea Review
It was one of those afternoons when the city felt too loud and too fast, and I wanted to sit somewhere quiet without really explaining why. So I went up. All the way up, to Level 32 of The Westin Singapore, where the Lobby Lounge sits above the noise like it knows something the rest…
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“Caffeine-Free Tea” Confuses Everyone—Let’s Fix the Language
I have noticed that tea conversations can become surprisingly confusing. Not because tea itself is complicated, but because we sometimes use the same words to mean completely different things. One phrase that always catches my attention is “caffeine-free tea.” It sounds simple enough. A tea without caffeine. But is that really what we mean? Because…
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The Pull, Pour, and Ritual Behind Singapore’s Favourite Milk Tea: Teh Tarik
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…
