Chaa (made by my partner)

Chaa is something I used to be indifferent to. It was a source of immense pride for my eldest sister, who assumed the role of making it for everyone, including for my parents every day. I almost never made it, unless she was not available. I will never forget a time in my late teens or early 20s when I somehow got free samples of Yorkshire Tea for Hard Water, and decided on a whim to use it to make my parents tea, as my eldest sister wasn't home. They praised the tea, which was incredible, because they were not forthcoming with praise and I was not an 'expert' in making tea, unlike my eldest sister. This slightly surreal achievement for me took on a more surreal character when my eldest sister came home, found out that I had made them tea and then seemed to henceforth acquire a grudge against Yorkshire Tea/preference for PG Tips, which may well have foundered in the face of reality by this point, many years on...

When I met my partner, making him chaa was an act of love. It was something I could offer him that was unique to me, that couldn't be easily bought elsewhere or replicated. He learned how to make it from me, and I found myself in the role that my own sister had played, briefly fearing myself to be replaced. However, he was so skilled at it that there was no point in stubbornness. It was his act of love to me, and I accepted it. Subsequently, we embarked together on the attempt to optimise our chaa by trying different tea varieties, different types of honey and veganising it, which led to the way he makes it now - intense with ginger and cardamom, creamy from the double-boiled oat milk, carefully brewed with 2 teabags (there was a brief detour into tea leaves, but it was NOT for him). 

This is a ritual that takes most of his attention, and takes considerable time. 45 minutes of work, plus 10 minutes of cooling time! I usually will make breakfast or do something else whilst he occupies the cooker, producing wonderful smells and the steady hum of the extractor fan. Even with the same underlying recipe, it is a new experience each time. Sometimes the tea shrinks down to only 2 cups, and is incredibly rich with ginger. Sometimes the oat milk flavour is more pronounced. Different honeys behave differently - some lose what made them special raw, while otherwise meld wonderfully with the other ingredients (linden and wildflower honey are the heroes in this regard). 

With the music of the extractor fan and the steady assurance of now this is added, now that is watched and poured and strained... Waking up earlier than I meant to has now been redeemed.Sometimes I have tried to make it for him, and it is laughable now to think back on THOSE failed attempts. The student has become the master. I taught him, he might teach me in turn someday. Together, we learnt how to make it 'just right' and it has become our weekend morning ritual to look forward to intensely when the weather is bad, a promise of a delightful start to the day whatever might come next.