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Like many great inventions, the technique of scenting and flavoring tea was discovered quite by accident-at least if we are to believe Chinese legend. For it is the Chinese who tell the tale of Han Hsiang Tzu, the patron god of flowers and poetry, and one of the Eight Immortals. He is often depicted with a basket of flowers and a magical jade flute with which he is able to summon and influence sea dragons and other creatures. No one can prove that it was not Han who, unbeknownst to the earliest Chinese tea masters, was able to guide them as they planted peaches, plums, apricots, magnolias, and sweet orchids to provide shade and moisture for their young tea gardens. Much to their fragrant surprise, when these fruit and flower trees bloomed, the tender sprouts and buds of tea absorbed the aromas, which were passed on to those who drank the infusions. The ancestors of tea thanked their lucky stars at their new tea's most astounding flavor and fragrance.
Flavors of the World
Some of the earliest teas scented or flavored with intent are Feizi Zhao (Feizi's Smile) and Jasmine flower tea (Moli Huacha). Here the difference between scented and flavored tea already came into play. Jasmine tea, first created 800 years ago dueing the Song Dynasty for the Emperor and Empress, relies on the fragrance or perfume of the jasmine flowers to scent a tea, while Feizi Zhao (created for Feizi, the most beautiful and great love of Emperor Zuan Xong of the Tang Dynasty) is flavored with the juices of the litchee fruit, purported to be an aphrodisiac. Today the tart and sweet juices of this white jade fruit are carefully suffused during the steaming process of either white or green tea, or heated and reheated into Congo black tea leaves.
Tarry Lapsang souchong is considered a scented tea--smoky beyond compare-and is often called the Scotch drinkers tea. It came about curiously, too: as tea caravans traveled the legendary silk roads across Central Asia, the tea often arrived infused with the smoke of evening campfires. Today, though the tea leaves are smoked artfully over pine fires, the tea is still known as Russian Caravan tea. The most famous of all flavored teas is of course Earl Grey, created for the Prime Minister of England in the 1830s and flavored with the pear-shaped orange of Canton, China. Like most flavored teas, it is loved as much for its scent as for its flavor.
Today, many flavored teas have become traditions around the world. The Russians are fond of dabbing a bit of jam at the bottom of their tea glasses and sipping this tea through cubes of sugar. The Turkish prefer roses and apples. About a century and a half ago, the Morroccans began scenting green gunpowder tea with fresh and dried mint leaves. Now this is treated with all the reverence due an ancient tradition. Indians are proud of their rich Assam, Ceylon or Darjeeling teas, but are also quite fond of flavoring them with pods of cardamom, dried ginger, cloves, or cinnamon cooked with milk. In Tibet, strong black teas are flavored with yak butter.
It all sounds very exotic, and yet, some 50 years ago the style of American tea crossed a flavoring threshold of its own, with the revival of colonial "Liberty" teas. These teas had been made from all manner of herbs, some introduced by American Indians in place of tea. The famed Mrs. Bigelow of Bigelow Teas mixed them with black tea for several tastings among friends. She found her famous blend of oranges, cinnamon and spices quickly became the subject of constant comments, thereby inspiring the famous "Constant Comment" tea which saw us through the 1960s and 1970s-an era that also saw the first man on the moon.
So, with all this flavoring and scenting history behind us, what is left to do?
It is an important question, both in terms of philosophy and business. And I think the only way to really address it is to go to a different level of understanding, of tea and of ourselves.
We simply have to dream. But to do this simple thing, we have to put ourselves in a different space. Normally we are consumed with the everyday demands of our businesses-receipts, payroll, rent, and the like. But in order to create really great teas, we have to somehow make the same connections as Han Hsiang Tzu. We have to become living links between poetry and tea.
Liquid Painting
Tea blending is a courtship between tea and art. Fragrances, fruits, flowers, spices, and tea elixirs are your palette. Water is your muse. Tea is your canvas.
Because tea scenting and flavoring is so subjective, you have to draw on your own inner identity for inspiration. For example, before my life in tea, I attended a perfumery in the south of France, then studied painting in Florence, Italy and New York City. Today all of these experiences inform my methods of flavoring and scenting tea. In a way, our own lives become ingredients in our distinctive blends.
So how does one begin?
First, accept that all creative endeavor begins with intuition. Tea is no different. By its very nature, tea must walk a fine line between the individual and the social, between reverie and pairings with cuisine, between reflection and ritual.
I also believe you must become familiar with great flavors in the world beyond tea. Seek to acquire what the industry calls a "nose." A successful scenter and flavorer must not only identify smells, but must discern notes that make up an invisible tableau that I call a "liquid painting." It may help you to consider your blend as a Renoir in the form of a tea. Or a Chopin nocturne. Just as you source your leaves, you must "souce" your creative imagination.
A good example of this process of gestation, this method, if you like, is the emergence of one of my first blends, in 1992, which I called "Japanese Afternoon."
This is a sencha tea "double blended" with sweet mandarin oranges and other essences, then scented with oil from the rinds of the oranges themselves. Then I add chamomile. When this tea debuted, sencha tea had been unaltered for hundreds of years. My first Japanese clients tried--unsuccessfully--to hide their shock, only to find to their surprise that they liked it. This blend is now sold in Japan itself. Once radical, it is now considered a "new tradition."
How does one concoct such a tea? It is, of course, impossible to say. If I were asked, point-blank, I would have to say, "Well, I was sitting in my garden in Woodstock, and dreaming of a long walk on a sunny Kyoto afternoon, of seeing silver and gold pavilions, of hearing the muted chants of Buddhist monks, and smelling the incense suffusing my clothes. And I thought, let's call this tea Japanese Afternoon!"
You're right-this process is inimitable, because every artist is different. But then comes the science. The second step-the actual mechanical discipline of tea flavoring--is built on your understanding of tea chemistry, and the behavior of tea in relation to other ingredients. And this is the work of experience.
There are a few important principles. Pick only the most suitable leaves. In an Earl Grey, for example, use a first flush, so the bergamot will not overwhelm the delicacy of the leaves. Different sizes of sencha will be suitable for different blends. Never mask poor leaves with artificial flavorings or oils-this will produce a tea disquise, not a real tea. Even though a tea is blended with other flavors, it should still speak for itself, so you should listen to what it has to say. For instance, when confronted with a lush Ceylon with a natural dusting of raspberry and cinnamon notes, I might turn to oils of several types of cocoa. Why? Partly because of what my inner voice tells me. But also because I understand how these flavors behave in concert.
There are some who caution blenders against going too far, too fast. But I think that, like an artist, you should never be afraid to challenge the consumer's palate, especially if you are convinced that the result will be a delicious surprise. Just make sure, when you experiment, that you avoid unbalanced blends that you cannot recreate consistently. Make a friend of science, and it will be your key to prosperity.
Pyramid Power
Sitting in some of the world's best restaurants, having enjoyed a truly memorable feast, I have often thought, "How can these chefs serve the finest gustatory delights, only to finish it off with a limp belly-flop of a tea bag bobbing face down in a luke-warm puddle of water?"
The sad truth is that tea connoisseurship has not yet penetrated the world of cuisine. And where there is no quality tea, there will be no quality flavored tea. For some, this is a disaster. For me, it has always been a challenge and an opportunity, and I encourage you to see it in the same way. Just as you sourced your inner artist to create great teas, you must channel that creativity into the marketing of your business. I speak from experience, for I personally managed to actualize the introduction of premium loose-leaf teas into five-star restaurants from Florida and New York to England and Russia.
This was not accomplished overnight. Nor was it the product of PR. It was, once again, the blend of the artistic and the scientific. By taking the initiative and working with chefs for over a decade, and evolving unique and replicable ways of pairing my teas with various cuisines, I created yet another avenue for increasing my client base. Now every day I welcome new customers into my retail store who have enjoyed my teas at venues such as the Waldorf-Astoria or even the Gracie Mansion, and have come to the source to purchase more. It's no secret that the more well-placed your product, the more attention it will receive. If I mention that Lou Reed and Lawrence Fishbourne are fans of certain flavored teas, for example, other people are more likely to take note.
This same approach is behind my line of tea chocolates, tub teas and medicinal blends. The latter attracted the attention of television viewers of the show, "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," when they were used to cure a case of sore throat. What the public did not see was all the work that went into product development: months of cooperating with herbalists and homeopaths to fine-tune the most effective mix of ingredients.
Celebrity aside, the key to sustaining your marketability is ease of use. At T Salon, the aspect of flavoring isn't just something we do besides tea, it is our philosophy, our approach to tea. So it is front and center in our presentation. Our wall colors conjure moods and associations, like flavors. We display and serve our 400 loose-leaf teas in a tactile way; we brew it at our tea counter, in full view, or our waiters bring the leaves directly to the table. I also teach workshops and hold cuppings, because I believe that giving people an appreciation of tea is not about giving away trade secrets, it's about educating the palate and creating customers for ever more sophisticated products.
Tea Confidence
Many people believe that marketing your product is not very artistic. But what is art if nobody sees it? What is great tea if the only people who drink it are aficionados crowded into a SoHo loft? To be successful, tea must shed its elite image, while remaining a quality product. The key is not to bring down the flavor, but to educate the consumer. I call it building "tea confidence"-the sense of being comfortable with exploring teas, rather than being intimidated by them.
This democratic approach is behind an invention that I liken to that great cultural leveler of our time, the reality show: my see-through pyramid pouch tea bag. This holds much more tea than the conventional bag, and because of this, it can accommodate real loose leaves, not just the dust of the past. It allows the leaves to fully unfurl, as if loose, and because the bag is transparent, the drinker can enjoy the visual part of the tea "performance." The shape even allows the pouch itself to sink down into the cup, where the flavor can parachute into a more than decent drink. Yet it is packaged for the restaurant, office, airline, or even home user.
A few years ago, many of these thoughts would have been considered fringe. But suddenly we live in very eclectic times. Anything is possible. And if it's possible, it's probably already here. So look around, and don't be afraid to take in the fullness of our age, and interpret it for your guests in the form of distinctive personal blends. In these days of Earl Grey martinis, chai butter, Lapsang-Souchong vinegar, and tea-smoked duck, it's unlikely that your customers will rebel against anything you devise, as long as you trust your own taste.
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