A quintessential Brit, my mother loves her tea: a simple Earl Grey, left to brew for the perfect few minutes, with just a dash of milk,
MOTHER KNOWS BEST Nowadays I regularly find cups of tea I have no memory of making in random locations around my apartment. I don’t care; I stop sip feel revived wash out the cup and call my mother
O ne of the habits I picked up from my mother is drinking tea. A quintessential Brit my mother loves her tea: a simple Earl Grey left to brew for the perfect few minutes with just a dash of milk.
I remember sneaking a sip of the brown-gray drink as a child when my mother wasn’t watching and promptly spitting it out — it tasted and looked like the murky dishwashing water in the sink.
Children mature and so do their tastes. It was at some point toward the end of high school that I found my study sessions accompanied by a cup of tea. And not just any cup of tea. My childhood associations had spoiled Earl Grey for me. Now I preferred the strong Yorkshire blend the kind that’s so solid it seems to stick to your tongue if you leave the teabag in too long.
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