The Tea Maker

The traditional tea kettle will never go out of style at our house...

...but someone here ordered a new tea maker last week and when they opened a box that UPS delivered, I was surprised and delighted with its contents!

It's a simple, efficient, and high-tech way to make a perfect cup of tea. And it really does make a perfect cup! In fact, it makes an entire pot of perfect tea! There are many choices: green, black, white, herbal, oolong, and custom. And you can decide if you want it to be strong, medium, mild, or custom. There's an option for hot water alone. A timer for auto starting. And a button to push if you want to keep things warm after brewing.

The brewing basket is large, with lots of space for tea leaves to float around so they brew properly and to maximum effect. When the button is pushed to start tea making, the water temperature rises to the appropriate temperature for the kind of tea being brewed. Once the proper temperature is reached, the basket slowly glides down a jug post where it is magnetically attached. It brews a perfect amount of time and then slowly glides upwards and out of the hot water (now tea). 

The "keep warm" setting keeps the tea at exactly the right temperature. For the next 60 minutes, a just right cup of tea can be poured.

And best of all, the person who ordered the tea maker also ordered a box of wonderful, fragrant, and varied tea leaves for the enjoyment of all. Such a generous spirit. Tea delight for all!

The brand is Breville. Enjoy!

Cheery Cherry Macaroons

Cheery Cherry Macaroons are a wonderful meld of pecan and almond, coconut, and cherries! Perfect with a cup of tea or packed into a lunch box, they are a special culinary treat. Thanks to my friend, Nancy, for sharing this wonderful recipe.

Cheery Cherry Macaroons

• 3 cups flour
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 cup butter
• 1/4 cup milk
• 1 egg
• 1 tsp. baking powder
• 1 tsp. almond extract
• 1/4 tsp. salt
• 1/2 cup maraschino cherries, chopped
• 1/2 cup pecans, chopped
• 2 cups coconut

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.

Combine all ingredients except maraschino cherries, pecans, and coconut. Beat at low speed for 2 - 3 minutes. Then stir in maraschino cherries and pecans. Drop by teaspoonful into the coconut and roll cookies into 1" balls. Bake for 15 - 20 minutes until light brown. Remove from heat and then allow to stand on cookie sheet for at least one minute. Remove from cookie sheet. Enjoy!

Yellow Violets Syrup

In the early summer, the violets carpet the woodland property around our cabin in many places. They seem to thrive in small areas of clearing and in clusters under evergreen trees. The lavender violets are not as prolific, but the yellow ones scatter the forest floor like little beams of sunshine! They are tiny, but abundant. Awhile back, I decided that I should try my hand at a new recipe and make some violet syrup. 

It is no small feat to pick two cups of yellow violet blossoms. They are tiny, delicate, and do not grow in clusters of blossoms. So, one by one, I picked the precious little bits of gold and put them in a secure zip-lock bag. The entire time, I kept one ear and eye tuned to the woods around me (and I didn't wander far away from the fence builder!) so that I could be aware and alert for wild animals like cougars and bears. My dog was my companion and together we enjoyed a yellow violet collecting walk through the woods. At first I used scissors to snip, but found it quicker and faster to bend and pinch with my fingers. By afternoon's end I decided there was enough for a cooking project and put the bags in the ice chest to stay cool.

Of course it was late when we arrived back home, and I was not in the mood to stay up and make violet syrup! To protect the delicate blossoms, I placed them in quart jars and filled them with water. Once lidded, they were placed in the refrigerator so they stay cold and fresh. I didn't want them to wilt.

The next day I started the syrup-making process and a beautiful, golden syrup was the result.

Yellow-Violets Syrup

• 3 cups yellow-violet water [made from two cups violets and three cups water]
• 6 cups organic sugar
• 1 Tbsp. lemon juice

Gently wash the violets blossoms and drain. Place in a mixing bowl. Heat three cups of water to a boil. Remove from heat and gently pour over the violets. Cover immediately and allow to cool for 24 hours. Use a paper coffee filter to drain (1/2 cup at a time) the water into a small container. Toss away the violets and save the violet water. 

Place violet water in a saucepan. Add sugar. Bring to a gentle boil, stirring constantly. Boil for 10 minutes. Add lemon juice (it will bring out the natural color of the violets, enhancing the syrup's appearance). Remove from heat. 

If canning, fill sterilized jars to the brim. Cap and process for 10 minutes in a water bath. Make pretty labels that say Yellow-Violets Syrup and attach one to each jar. Cap with a paper doily. Add a pretty ribbon or raffia to decorate. 

Makes 8 jelly jars of syrup.

The flavor is delicate and delicious. May be used to enhance lemonade or iced tea, or for a topping for a frozen dessert. Great with fruit. Also, a delicious sweetener for a cup of hot tea. Violet syrups are high in vitamin C and have been said to be beneficial and soothing for sore throats.

A Button Teacup

A velvet pincushion is decorated with pinned-on vintage buttons. It fits perfectly into an old porcelain teacup that sits on my shabby chic coffee table. Simple charm. 

A True Irish Tea by Aunt Marcella

I left my heart in England this time.  And have left pieces of it in nearly every country we've visited.  But with England it went deep.  It's simply my kind of quaintness, countryside, people...and my language.  We were actually passing through England on our way to Ireland, having "done" England "last" summer, or so we thought.  But it's a big mistake.  One should not ignore present joys in the hopes of greater, later.  Neither, is a country ever really "done" --- most of us just scratch the surface.  We were blessed for nine days with classically beautiful weather, a little nicety not often enjoyed in the British Isles.  Loved rugged Wales, but the southern counties of Somerset, Devon, and Cornwall stretching to the very tip of Land's End, are dearest to the heart of every Briton, and were sheer joy, joy, to us.  We loved the high hedges, the hidden "smuggler's cove" beaches, the cottage rambled with roses, old inns with low oaken beams, cozy fireplaces, hanging copper ware and pewter, peaceful villages, and always decency, charm, refinement.  It's such a "civilized" country!  As travelers, we felt a graciousness here not encountered since leaving Japan.  One is never a customer, but a guest to be treated with grave respect.  I discovered early how enchanting their old homes and tea houses were, so having a passion for this sort of thing, devised a system for getting into at least three a day.  Morning beverage, lunch at noon, and afternoon tea, which is promptly at 4:00.  All England pivots on the "Tea at 4:00" schedule. . .even if the house is burning, you must not rush out without having tea first!  We had Devonshire clotted cream with fresh strawberries, rhubarb pudding, deep-dish English apple pie, high tea, low tea, cream tea, country tea, lunch in a 12th century manor house, and scones, scones, scones.  We are talking of another trip. . .

The strangest tea I will ever have in my life occurred in Ireland, which, by the way, is green, friendly, progressive, and lots of fun.  In the wild, rugged, southern Killarney Lake country, Mike and I took an all day trek, making a complete circle, first by pony cart, then by horseback, and later by boat, which circled us back to the starting point again in the evening.  Not being so lucky weather-wise in Ireland (where are all those green shamrocks?), we had rain most of the six days we were there.  This memorable day was no exception, but we wanted to take this trip badly enough to do it in the pouring rain.  We had another lady and a foolhardy couple from California with us and a little sort-of-girl-guide.  We set off in high spirits, which sank lower and lower as we got colder and wetter.  Transferring from the pony-trap after an hour, we found the horses typical nags, and cantankerous to boot!  However, I felt somewhat smug and self-assured, since I was almost raised on a horse.  After two hours on horseback and getting into deep, wild mountains, we were stiff and frozen.  Our sack lunch became a mass of mush, vitamin pills in my purse ran red all over, our clothes were sodden, and our limbs were paralyzed with cold.  Our little-girl-guide reassured us by telling us we only had three hours left to go!  We saw an isolated house that offered tea, and gratefully groaned off our horses and dripped inside, running rivulets on her kitchen floor, and apologizing between chattering teeth.  We gulped hot tea with Irish soda bread, and stayed as long as we dared.  Again, we struggled aboard our plugs, who would not do anything they did not feel like doing.

In the meantime, the country was frighteningly beautiful, with deep gullies, broad rocky valleys, and treeless craggy mountains --- what a fantastic trip in good weather!  After two more frozen hours, Mike and I approached the summit (we were ahead) and looked into desolate virgin territory beyond.  My tendency was to go left, because it look like we might meet our boats there.  But my horse was going right whether I consented or not, and trusting the sure-direction instincts of a horse, Mike and I went right.  After a while, Mike wasn't so sure, so turned his horse back to the crossroads, but mine would not go.  I kept assuming the others would come (since my horse insisted this was the right road) but, hill after hill, I kept looking back.  No horses appeared, and soon the crossroad was far behind me.  Gradually I decided this must be the wrong way, and tried again to turn around.  I tried to go into the lane of an isolated house, I tried to stop. . .I tried everything, but that broken-down horse was impossible.  When I tried to let the horse know who was in charge, he promptly backed me right down a bank into a ravine.  Then, for the first time I was frightened, because I knew that I could not handle that horse.  I began (in growing terror) to contemplate spending the night out in the wilds of Killarney and likely freezing to death.  I had no idea where we were headed, but it certainly wasn't toward human habitation.  These were very bad moments.  Spying an inhabited old cottage, I decided to stop, even if I had to leap off the horse, but surprisingly she was willing and I lumbered off, hallowing to the occupants. . .

An old peasant lady appeared in black dress and stockings, and at the sight of another human being, I nearly broke down in weeping.  Struggling for control, I told her I must be lost (although I suspected that she already suspected that).  I told her the boats were leaving soon (there was only one a day), but this horse insisted on coming here.  She then dropped her little bombshell --- the horse belonged there and was merely coming home --- with an unwilling visitor!  She later admitted it was not the first time it had happened.  The horse and I had been on the trail for four solid, er, liquid hours!  She led me inside her home (which I was than anxious to see despite my distressing situation) to an open peat fireplace with an old black kettle hanging over it, and then began stripping off my soggy clothes.  I sat by the fire with this kindly soul bustling about, putting warm clothes on me, getting hot tea, trying to hurry with three huge dogs, and a red-haired Irish grand baby, and a flock of baby turkeys all under foot.  I couldn't believe my eyes and wanted to laugh and cry both, at this unreal situation.  I watched bemusedly while one little turkey jumped into the rim and then into a large pail sitting on the kitchen floor.  Hearing noise, the lady of the house rushed over to the pail in time to pull out a half-drowned little turk from what was obviously a pail of water.  Calamities!  It was a wild scene.  She shoved them all under a basket and then proceeded to cut a homemade raisin loaf for my tea without benefit of hand washing of any sort between turkeys and bread.  I may have winced, but I wouldn't have refused her hospitality for anything.  It tasted delicious and was served on her best china.  She commented that I "seemed to fit in very nicely here in this country" probably because I was petting her dogs that were running in and out, and trying strenuously to see everything I could while just trying to appear as if I had grown up with peat fires and turkeys drowning themselves in the center of the kitchen floor!  When I told her I was from California she was very surprised and said she thought I was one of the local Irish girls from "up North".  I concluded that I must be fitting in very well indeed.  My Yankee twang was mistaken for an Irish brogue...!

Meantime she sent her daughter-in-law (who incidentally had worked two years at Schrafft's Restaurant in New York but got homesick and came back to marry a local boy) to the neighbor's house at the end of the road for a car.  No one was home, and now we were all in a frantic frenzy.  That boat was due to leave 30 minutes before.  I threatened to walk, and finally they consented, but insisted the daughter-in-law walk the 5 or 6 miles with me.  In a few minutes, we heard a car driving up behind us, and the much-sought neighbor materialized.  We roared over ruts and believe it or not, when we arrived, the boats were just leaving, having waited over 30 minutes for me.  Mike, who was beside himself, had just told them to go on without.  He was going to start after me, spend the night in the mountains, stay with a farmer, hire a car (no more horses!) or anything that was necessary.  An interesting postscript was that the California woman's horse also took her to its house in a different direction from me, and the farmer there had to bring her back in his car also.  Well, now that it's all over, I'm glad it happened.  How else could I have taken tea in front of an open peat fire with the turkeys and the dogs and the O'Donahue's of Killarney?

The Tilting Teapot of Castle Cairn

The Castle Cairn "Tilting Teapot" has been replicated by the owners of the shop that the owners call by the same name. It is no longer in business, but before it closed I had the opportunity to visit there and to observe a demonstration of how this unique teapot works. According to information given, in 1905 the Scottish Earl of Dundonald invented a "tilting teapot" for the optimum brewing of loose-leaf teas. The good Earl christened it the SYP teapot, which he said stood for "Simple. . .yet perfect". 

The teapot is made so that it can stand 'tipped' or in an upright position. A small infusion shelf is about 3/4 of the way to the top. When filled with hot water, the teapot is then laid in the 'tipping' position, steeping the tea leaves on the infusion shelf that acts as a dam, thus preventing the leaves from floating into the majority of the hot water below. After infusing, the teapot is tilted back on it's base and left to drain for a minute or two. It's then ready to pour and enjoy. The tea leaves stay on the infusion tray, ready for second pot? A second infusion can be gained by simply pouring more hot water.

Although the original "Tilting Teapot", circa 1970, costs about $400.00, the owners of this shop recreated a more affordable version for daily use. Original, antique versions of this unique teapot are also available.

Technical Tea

It was decided when Dad and Alma visited recently, that we would do a "town day". I determined to take them to tea and to a local museum. Dad is a retired university professor. He has been responsible for the education of many electronics technicians and engineers over the years. I really wanted to take him somewhere that would interest him and remembered that one of the tea shops in town was co-owned by an IT computer scientist and electrical engineer. Perfect!

It was decided that we would participate in a tea tasting. Olga was a wonderful host and spent much time discussing teas and tisanes and their history, sources, and usage.

She spent several hours with us, explaining things and answering all our questions.

We tried four different types of teas and/or tisanes. They were:

Mocha Roca Rooibos: a naturally sweet, earthy tisane with subtle hints of chocolate; the best rooibos I have ever tried; excellent (I don't usually enjoy rooibos tisanes).

White Bergmot Honeymoon: a super floral black tea; a blend that is all about the aroma; smelled like roses; rich in the oil of bergamot, also called beebalm (I have lots of it growing in my herb garden right now); dad's favorite of the day and my least favorite.

Ceylon Nuwara Eliya: plain black tea; dark mature; flowery broken orange pekoe; full-bodied and delicious!

Yunnan Royal Gold: a red tea from Yunnan, China; made from young leaves, buds, and tips; very flavorful and my favorite! Most delicious of all!

Chocolates, fortune cookies, and artisan candy was served with tea so that we could cleanse our palates between kinds of tea. Olga was generous with the tea portions and attentive to the pace we set in enjoying our teas.

We spent time looking through the gift shop where tea containers and accoutrement's from all around the world were displayed and available for sale.

It was an enjoyable time and I loved going to tea with Dad and Alma. They were great conversationalists and were interested in the tea experience.

Generally, after tea with a friend we'd go to some of the nearby gift shops. But, I decided to treat Dad to a visit to our local museum instead. It was the highlight of his day! He walked inside the front door and was met by a docent. That is where he stayed for the next two hours and the two of them discussed ideas of mutual interest. The docent was exactly Dad's age and was a physicist who spent his entire career in our community where he worked in the nuclear industry. He shared history, perspectives, and answered questions galore! Dad never did see the displays.

Alma and I browsed through museum displays, learning about nuclear power along the way. It didn't take us two hours, so we each found a comfortable chair and relaxed while Dad enjoyed his visit with the docent. 

Afterwards, I thought I really should take Alma to a gift shop or two, just to be fair. We ended with a trip to Frosted Cupcake Sweet where we each had a decadent cupcake! It was a very pleasant day.

Lomonosov Teapot & the Best Kind of Rain

Spring speaks of flowers, green grasses, nesting birds, and rain! It seems that passing showers feel it their responsibility to introduce summer. The poet, Longfellow, reminds us that into each life some rain must fall. Sadly, that's true. But if it's going to fall, don't you think it should be a cozy rain and involve something as comforting as a cup of tea?

• "The best kind of rain, of course, is a cozy rain. This is the kind the anonymous medieval poet makes me remember, the rain that falls on a day when you'd just as soon stay in bed a little longer, write letters or read a good book by the fire, take early tea with hot scones and jam and look out the streaked window with complacency."  ~ Susan Allen Toth, England for All Seasons

Teapot on my mantle today: Lomonosov porcelain teapot from St. Petersburg, Russia. Originally the products from this factory were made exclusively for the Russian ruling family of Romanov and the Imperial Court. After 100 years production started for the general population.

This little beauty was a Christmas gift years back from my youngest son. He was just to the age where he had started earning his own money and ordered it online as a wonderful gift! Every time I use it or see it, I am reminded of his thoughtfulness.

• "For many years St Petersburg was one of Europe's great centres for the production of porcelain. The Imperial Porcelain Factory, founded in 1744, was just one of a number of manufacturers in the city producing bespoke high-quality crockery, ornaments and decorative pieces for the fabulously wealthy aristocrats and merchants who lived here. Renamed the Lomonosov factory by the Soviets, the company has now reverted to its original name and set up a number of franchise locations across the city selling exquisite gifts and dinner sets in pre-Revolutionary, Soviet-themed and contemporary artistic designs." 

Today I am linking to Bernideen's Tea Time Blog.

Flowers in Colclough

This beautiful short story was found as the text on the inside of a greeting card. I believe it exemplifies the beauty of friendships and the giving spirit of those who enjoy afternoon tea.

Diary of Victoria Rose

Years ago I found a solitary tea cup at an antique shop with a gorgeous rose pattern. I fell in love with it on the spot. From then on, I searched high and low for the rest of the set in china shops, at auctions, flea markets, rummage sales.... Alas, without success! Not even a saucer!! Just as I was beginning to suspect that the cup wasn't part of a set at all, but a one -of -a -kind, never to be found again treasure, I was served tea on the very same china at the home of a friend! Well, I stared with wide eyes until my friend said, "Isn't it beautiful? I found it at an estate sale. Unfortunately, one of the cups is missing." With a twinkle in my eye, I knew that my precious cup would soon have a new home. 

Author Unknown.

The teacup in the picture is from my collection. It is a Colclough, bone china, made in England. The background is a pale, minty green and is dotted with pink roses accented with tiny yellow and blue flowers. Hand-painted gold swirls, flowers, and leaves adorn this teacup and give it a chintz like affect. It makes a beautiful base for a floral bouquet. The flowers were clipped from my flower garden this morning.

A Proper Tea

A Proper Tea is much nicer than a Very Nearly Tea, which is one you forget about afterwards. 

A.A. Milne

Did you notice the ladies sipping tea from their saucers? It was a very proper thing to do.

A Tray with Fragrant Tea

When the girl returned, some hours later, she carried a tray, with a cup of fragrant tea steaming on it; and a plate piled up with very hot buttered toast, cut thick, very brown on both sides, with the butter running through the holes in it in great golden drops, like honey from the honeycomb. The smell of that buttered toast simply talked to Toad; and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cosy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one's ramble was over, and slippered feet were propped on the fender; of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries. 

Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

Tea in Nature

Sometimes locals say we live in a desert, but that's really not true. Spring is the time of year that illustrates best that we live in a region that is shrub-steppe instead. Shrub-steppe depicts an area with low rainfall and natural grassland. This type of region has sufficient moisture levels to support a cover of perennial grasses or shrubs. That, combined with the rich volcanic soil of southeastern Washington, creates ideal conditions for grazing or raising crops of dryland wheat. With the addition of irrigation water, orchards and other crops grow very well. A drive through the countryside is prettiest in April and May because of the vibrant green of new growth. When it starts getting hot, everything turns brown and beige instead.

Erosion during the Missoula Floods caused deep canyons in some parts of the landscape. It is not unusual to find flood-created coulees, cataracts, plunge pools, potholes, rock benches, buttes, and pinnacles in this part of our state. They have a unique beauty all their own.

As soon as the weather warms up each spring, it has become tradition that our family take a day trip to Palouse Falls. It involves a drive through flat, shrub-steppe lands, past wheat fields and through fields of cattle. Pretty farms and ranches dot the landscape. Eventually a small sign indicates a turn onto a dirt road. Washboarding through a cattle pasture is a bumpy experience! But it leads to a magnificent sight!

Out of nowhere a deep canyon appears and with it a beautiful waterfall! The Palouse River flows through the shrub-steppe and suddenly falls 198 feet to a basin below the canyon wall. A picture cannot do this waterfall justice! Humans who hike to its base (and fish along the pools shore) look like tiny dots from the observation area at the top of the cliff.

Mock orange and other flowering shrubs provided beauty and much contrast to the basalt rocks and grasses nearby.

We enjoyed viewing the falls, looking at marmots as they ate and played, and observing all the other humans who came to enjoy the view!

The view to the left, the falls. And if you look to the right, a canyon with the Palouse River winding along for four more miles where it joins the Snake River.

Here's another description of the falls. The writer who shares hiking information with others notes that the paved paths that lead to the observation site are appreciated by bull snakes and rattlers on a warm day. Yikes!

Yellow-bellied marmots thrive in their rocky homes between the safety fence and the edge of the cliff. They are quite immune to being bothered by humans, generally ignoring those who come to view them. The babies were especially cute and fun to observe!

Such a pleasant excursion, topped off with lunch and a cup of tea back at the car. Life is good!