For tea lovers who like the idea of spicing things up a bit.
It is a smoggy November winter morning in Delhi, as I sit writing this, wishing for the sun to get a bit bolder and my cup of scalding honey-ginger-lemon tea, a bit colder. I am addicted to this particular concoction, which I first tasted, in all its honeyed glory, in Landour, at Anil Gupta’s tea stall in Char Dukan. I remember the clear Borosil cup with the deep amber liquid with swirls of steam rising up to comfort my cold-blocked nose — there is something deliciously nebulous about the memory of a taste, which in my case returns with a whole cornucopia of other associations, like soothing visuals of green hills, the sound of tall pine trees swishing, and the smell of dewy mornings in the mountains. All of it comes full circle with sweet sips of this winter-friendly chai, spiked by the bite from generous amounts of ginger, and a slight tart aftertaste of the lemon. My failproof channeling some hygge is hugging a hot mug of this tea, while I sit and stare into the blissful nothing [usually with a ‘mental’ soundtrack on].
Now, a tea connoisseur would, maybe, refrain from nominating this ginger-honey-lemon [GHL] beauty as their tea of choice, because why muddy the waters for the puritans pursuing their first flush fantasies. In line with talking of tea traditionalists, let’s veer a little eastwards to the city of joy and copious cha drinkers — Kolkata — from where comes a close cousin of the GHL, the lebu cha. A roadside stall staple, the dark gold of the lebu cha is sweet-salty-tangy to taste, is a very good digestive drink, a palate reviver, and a compulsory accessory to the tel-e-bhaja savoury snacks which oh-so complete an adda session. The way to make a brew-tiful lebu cha is to KISS and KETTLE on — basically, keep it short and simple and use a kettle to keep the flavours from escaping [just as though they were truant children].
Here is how I do it —
- Start with 500 ml of water in a kettle on a hob [I use this flame proof glass kettle from Borosil to track the changing colours of the brew and save it from over-boiling; I am a kettle stalker like that]
- Add 1/2 tsp loose leaf black tea + granules [I use the regular Tata Tea Gold because of its string blend with long leafs and dust combo; also because you don’t stuff momos with foie gras]
- Add 2 tbsp regular sugar [or as per your taste/capacity to throw caution and health advice to the wind]
- Add a pinch of powdered black salt/ kala namak [now this is the differentiator, the open secret, much like the butter to Nigella’s baked goodies]
- Once the brew is goldilicious enough for you, bring the kettle down, pour it into your favourite china and finish with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice
- Optional: If you want to drink it as a throat-soother, then add the tiniest pinch of black pepper when boiling
For those of us who would like to take a shortcut to the GHL stopover, they can get themselves this readymade concoction of ginger honey to add to tea-steeped hot water, topped with dash of lime juice, and be done [because fast and furious when it comes to kitchen work isn’t only for rebel girls/boys]. But, if you like doing things proper and would rather revel in the rhyme and song of making tea, [even as your millennial hustle quotient takes a dip before you sip], then here is how you can make yourself this adrak-madhu-nimbu wali chai which, believe me when I say, is the closest it can come to AA-friendly sanskari somras. So, here goes —
- Start with kettle/saucepan on hob, fill with one and a half cup of water, set to boil
- Add one and a half inch long piece of chopped/smashed peeled fresh ginger
- Let it boil for just a bit before adding one tsp of tea leaves/granules
- As soon as the liquid gets tea-stained, turn off the hob [very important to not let it over steep/boil, as then it might taste bitter]
- Put a tsp of good quality honey into [ideally] a clear tea cup and add a thin slice of raw ginger to it [I use the Organic India wild forest honey which enhances the colour and my favourite tea cup is this crystal cut one from Ducati]
- Pour in the hot tea, mix, add a squeeze of fresh lemon, sip to add/adjust
- Optional: Put your ‘old is gold’ playlist on as you sip slowly, letting the aroma waft in and take you back to your childhood home
I believe that my trusted Milton steel flask, by now, has a way of letting me know whenever the liquid level inside goes dangerously low, so that I get the GHL refill, because God help me if I am in the middle of Netflix and plot twist, all cosy inside my blankie, and I runout of chai, hai! Since lazy [mind you not lazing but lazy] is life in winter, especially, I have also found a hack which does away with the hassle of brewing fresh pots of GHL tea. And here comes in saenggangcha, or Korean honey ginger tea. My fairy godmother for all things yum and Korean is Maangchi [please do check her channel out if you haven’t already] and her recipe for this tea-lixir is super simple, can be stored in a bottle, spooned into hot water, stirred and sipped. Her way is to mix peeled fresh ginger puree[1 cup] with honey [1 cup] to a smooth, runny-ish consistency, pour into clean glass jar and keep away in a cool, dark place for tea-ing up later.
So much for tea-telling, but I now rest my case, having made a plea for my favourite ginger honey lemon tea, which, come winter, is my go-to for soothing throat and soul. Since food is a repository of not just cultures but also personal beliefs, I love this chai in particular because I see in it the romance of combining the commonest of ingredients to enjoy a fulsome taste, which comes from the sophistication of simplicity, and one which transports us to a time where less was more, few meant intimate, and easy was elevated.
