Cha Tea Quotes

Listen, if you want peace you must learn to drink cha from an empty cup.

My opinion is that you never find happiness until you stop looking for it.

Have a cup of tea,' said the bosun in a very loud voice; and then louder still, 'Tea. Cha.' The odabashi made no reply but an awkward writhe of his body and stood looking at the ground, his arms dangling low on either side. 'Well, this is a hairy bugger, and no mistake,' said the bosun, surveying him. 'Such a ugly cove I never seen: more like a hape than what you might call a human.' 'Hape!' cried the odabashi, stung out of his shyness, 'You can put that where the monkey put the nuts. You're no oil-painting yourself, neither.' The dead silence that followed this was broken at last by the bosun, who asked 'did the odabashi speak English?' 'Not a fucking word,' said the odabashi. 'No offence intended, mate,' said the bosun, holding out his hand. 'And none taken,' said the odabashi, shaking it.

Mason prefers to switch over to Tea, when it is Dixon’s turn to begin shaking his head. “Can’t understand how anyone abides that stuff.” “How so?” Mason unable not to react. “Well, it’s disgusting, isn’t it? Half-rotted Leaves, scalded with boiling Water and then left to lie, and soak, and bloat?” “Disgusting? this is Tea, Friend, Cha,— what all tasteful London drinks,— that,” pollicating the Coffee-Pot, “is what’s disgusting.” “Au contraire,” Dixon replies, “Coffee is an art, where precision is all,— Water-Temperature, mean particle diameter, ratio of Coffee to Water or as we say, CTW, and dozens more Variables I’d mention, were they not so clearly out of thy technical Grasp,— ” “How is it,” Mason pretending amiable curiosity, “that of each Pot of Coffee, only the first Cup is ever worth drinking,— and that, by the time I get to it, someone else has already drunk it?” Dixon shrugs. “You must improve your Speed . . . ? As to the other, why aye, only the first Cup’s any good, owing to Coffee’s Sacramental nature, the Sacrament being Penance, entirely absent from thy sunlit World of Tay,— whereby the remainder of the Pot, often dozens of cups deep, represents the Price for enjoying that first perfect Cup.” “Folly,” gapes Mason. “Why, ev’ry cup of Tea is perfect . . . ?” “For what? curing hides?

Aged teas are prized for the increased energy (cha-qi) that they possess, and for their ability to connect with and increase the level of internal bodily energy (qi) in those sipping these teas. This marriage of cha-qi and qi generates strong feelings of contentment and peacefulness within the tea drinker and is an anticipated and esteemed trait that is especially powerful and prevalent in aged teas.

Mason prefers to switch over to Tea, when it is Dixon’s turn to begin shaking his head. “Can’t understand how anyone abides that stuff.” “How so?” Mason unable not to react. “Well, it’s disgusting, isn’t it? Half-rotted Leaves, scalded with boiling Water and then left to lie, and soak, and bloat?” “Disgusting? this is Tea, Friend, Cha,— what all tasteful London drinks,— that,” pollicating the Coffee-Pot, “is what’s disgusting.” “Au contraire,” Dixon replies, “Coffee is an art, where precision is all,— Water-Temperature, mean particle diameter, ratio of Coffee to Water or as we say, CTW, and dozens more Variables I’d mention, were they not so clearly out of thy technical Grasp,—

BITCH THE POT Tea and gossip go together. At least, that’s the stereotypical view of a tea gathering: a group of women gathered around the teapot exchanging tittle-tattle. As popularity of the beverage imported from China (‘tea’ comes from the Mandarin Chinese cha) increased, it became particularly associated with women, and above all with their tendency to gossip. Francis Grose’s Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue lists various slang terms for tea, including ‘prattle-broth’, ‘cat-lap’ (‘cat’ being a contemporary slang for a gossipy old woman), and ‘scandal broth’. To pour tea, meanwhile, was not just to ‘play mother’, as one enduring English expression has it, but also to ‘bitch the pot’ – to drink tea was to simply ‘bitch’. At this time a bitch was a lewd or sensual woman as well as a potentially malicious one, and in another nineteenth-century dictionary the phraseology is even more unguarded, linking tea with loose morals as much as loquaciousness: ‘How the blowens [whores] lush the slop. How the wenches drink tea!’ The language of tea had become another vehicle for sexism, and a misogynistic world view in which the air women exchanged was as hot as the beverage they sipped. ‘Bitch party’ and ‘tabby party’ (again the image of cattiness) were the terms of choice for such gossipy gatherings. Men, it seems, were made of stronger stuff, and drank it too. Furthermore, any self-respecting man would ensure his wife and daughters stayed away from tea. The pamphleteer and political writer William Cobbett declared in 1822: The gossip of the tea-table is no bad preparatory school for the brothel. The girl that has been brought up, merely to boil the tea kettle, and to assist in the gossip inseparable from the practice, is a mere consumer of food, a pest to her employer, and a curse to her husband, if any man be so unfortunate as to affix his affections upon her. In the twenty-first century, to ‘spill the T’ has become a firm part of drag culture slang for gossiping. T here may stand for either ‘truth’ or the drink, but either way ‘weak tea’ has come to mean a story that doesn’t quite hold up – and it’s often one told by women. Perhaps it’s time for bitches to make a fresh pot.

Where would we be without smokes?' He said happily. 'Doesn't bear thinkin' about, it would be like a world without women, fuckin' horrible,' Williams said lazily. 'Be worse if there was no tea,' Ed said. 'Bloody hell,' Williams gasped, 'don't even joke about it. I can't imagine a world without a good brew. Can you picture it? It's what separates us from the animals.' 'If the generals all came round tomorrow and said that we'd ran out of tea in France the country would be empty of soldiers the next day. Can't fight a war without a bine and a cup of cha,' Ed said. 'Wouldn't be anythin' to fight for would there?

Times for drinking tea: In idle moments When bored with poetry Thoughts confused Beating time to songs When music stops Living in seclusion Enjoying scholarly pastimes Conversing late at night Studying on a sunny day In the bridal chamber Detaining favored guests Playing host to scholars or pretty girls Visiting friends from far away In perfect weather When skies are overcast Watching boats glide past on the canal Midst trees and bamboos When flowers bud and birds chatter On hot days by the lotus pond Burning incense in the courtyard After tipsy guests have left When the youngsters have gone out On visits to secluded temples When viewing springs and scenic rocks

Because they are rich in antioxidants and are eaten nearly every day in the region, these fifteen foods are considered keys to Okinawan vitality: Tofu Miso Tuna Carrots Goya (bitter melon) Kombu (sea kelp) Cabbage Nori (seaweed) Onion Soy sprouts Hechima (cucumber-like gourd) Soybeans (boiled or raw) Sweet potato Peppers Sanpin-cha (jasmine tea)

And that is what so much of Cha Tao is about: the elevation of the simplest aspects of life—the veneration of the smallest moments that we walk this Earth. We are learning to live: to live without any drama or effort, like the leaves themselves.

Having mastered the long sword at an early age—for some a lifelong struggle!—Musashi would go on to master the use of two swords simultaneously, as well as the other popular weapons of his day: the manriki chain, the shuriken throwing star, archery, spear, and bo-staff. Still not satisfied, before the end of his life, Musashi also became a respected calligrapher, painter, sculptor, writer, and master of the cha-do tea ceremony.

Tea if by sea, cha if by land.

Elena came up with the idea of a fusion elote, taking her beloved Mexican street corn and adding Pakistani and Filipino twists to match with Adeena's and my respective backgrounds. Not only did Jae gave us his mother's recipe for the oksusu cha, or Korean corn tea, but he'd also volunteered to handle all elote duties: slathering the corn with thick, creamy coconut milk before rolling it in a fragrant spice mix that included amchur powder and red chili powder, grilling it, then squeezing calamansi over the corn before sprinkling it with your choice of kesong puti or cotija cheese. It was a simple yet laborious task, but he seemed to enjoy himself ( I wasn't one for gender stereotypes, but what was with guys and grills?) and I'd caught him sneaking more than one smoky, salty treat as he worked. The benefit of being the cook. Meanwhile, I arranged the sweet offerings I'd prepared: mais ube sandwich cookies, mais kon keso bars, and two types of ice candy--- mais kon yelo and ginataang mais. Corn as a dessert ingredient may seem strange to some people, but Filipinos absolutely love and embrace corn in all its salty-sweet possibilities. My first offering sandwiched ube buttercream between corn cookies, the purple yam's subtle vanilla-like sweetness pairing well with the salty-sweet corn. Cheese and corn are a popular savory pairing, but guess what? It makes one of my absolute favorite Filipino ice cream flavors as well, and I channeled that classic combo into a cheesecake bar with a corn cookie crust. Mais kon yelo, literally corn with ice, is a Filipino dessert consisting of shaved ice with corn, sugar, and milk, while ginataang mais, a simple porridge made with coconut milk, glutinous rice, and sweet corn, is usually served warm for breakfast or meryenda. My take on these simple, refreshing snacks utilized those same flavors in a portable, easy-to-eat ice pop bag. However, if you wanted to try the traditional versions, you could just pop down a few booths over to Tita Rosie's Kitchen, the restaurant run by my paternal aunt and grandmother. While my aunt, Tita Rosie, handled the savory side of the menu, offering small cups of corn soup and paper cones full of cornick, or corn nuts flavored with salt and garlic, my grandmother, Lola Flor, reigned over the sweets. The aforementioned mais kon yelo and ginataang mais were the desserts on offer, in addition to maja blanca, a simple corn and coconut pudding. Truly a gluten-free sweet tooth's paradise.

Nagai thought that Japanese owed their strong feeling for beauty to their mothers. As girls, whether they came from wealthy homes or poor ones, they had all been trained in Japan’s thousand-year-old tradition of feminine refinement and grace. Learning that tradition was regarded as one of the essential preparations for marriage and was the reason why every town and village had flourishing classes in ikebana, or flower arrangement, and cha no yu, or tea ceremony. His thoughts winged back to his own mother. Everything she did, from the way she served common green tea at a meal to her bows of welcome and farewell to patients and callers, was done with grace. To Nagai, it was obvious that the mother was the central figure in Japanese life.

There’s a famous saying18 that what we call tea in a language depends entirely on the workings of trade during the period of empire: “‘Tea’ if by sea, ‘cha’ if by land.” If your culture first received tea via trade routes by sea from Fujian in the south of China, your language likely calls it something like the Min Nan (Hokkien) word “te”: thé, Tee, tea. If trade over land brought you tea, you likely call it something like the standard Mandarin 茶 (chá): chai, shay, cha. The very notion of movement, of trade and empire, is written into this plant and how we describe it.

Today's rice is mixed with hamo eel," said Nagare, returning with a Shigaraki-ware clay pot and a small, lidded bowl. "Interesting. I've had hamo as sushi plenty of times, but never with regular rice." "Well, it's certainly not as fancy as sushi," replied Nagare, setting the pot down on a woven straw mat. "Anyone could whip it up at home." "And what's the soup?" asked Nobuo, removing the lid from the small bowl. "I chopped up the skin from the hamo and made it into dumplings. Add a bit of this yuzu peel too, if you like." Nagare appeared to have deliberately used one of Nobuo's creations to serve the soup. A tempting fragrance was rising from the jet-black lacquered bowl. "Regular green tea all right for you?" asked Koishi, showing him a Kyo-ware teapot. "Oh, yes. In fact, at home I like to have a cup of bo-cha." "Bo-cha?" repeated Koishi, pausing with her teapot at the ready. "A specialty of Kaga, back in Ishikawa. It's a sort of roasted green tea--- like hojicha, basically, but made using the stems rather than the leaves. It's all about the fragrance." "Nothing like it after a good meal, is there?" Koishi poured the green tea into a tall, narrow cup, releasing a smoky aroma. "This is just a small portion for now," said Nagare, placing a bowl of rice in front of Nobuo. "But there's plenty in the pot, so just tell me if you'd like more." Nobuo's eyes widened. "This is the... hamo rice?" "Almost looks like plain white rice, doesn't it? I broke up the flesh from some grilled hamo and mixed it into the freshly cooked rice, and shredded perilla for seasoning. Really ties the flavors together. And if you're wanting to pour that tea over your rice and eat it chazuke-style, I'd recommend adding some of these toppings: wasabi, nori seaweed, and crumbled rice crackers." Nagare set the wooden spatula he'd used to serve the rice on the lid of the clay pot. "I didn't realize the hamo flesh would be this white without the skin," said Nobuo, reaching for his chopsticks. "It's practically gleaming!" Just as Nagare had said, it looked like little more than regular white rice. But as he raised a clump of it toward his mouth, the potent smell of hamo reached his nose first. The rice was clearly packed with the eel's flesh. Meanwhile, its skin had been used to make dumplings for the soup. This determination not to let any ingredient go to waste seemed typical of Nagare's style.