After Friday, I was hurtin'. I had some Advil, some Vicodin, and ice cream. But I had a hankering for something else, something natural ... something medicinal.
So these guys I know, they have the best shiznit, I mean, quality stuff, youknowwhatI'msayin'? Like they even know the growers, man. I can't use that cheap stuff anymore, you know, that stuff you can get like anywhere. I only use the good stuff.
So, we're there, and we get, like, half a pound of the Guatamalan. This stuff's organic, dude. Shade-grown and shiznit. But that's not all they got. Nah, they got everything there, and I mean, like everything. The rare stuff. The expensive stuff. Stuff even I haven't had before. But you only live once, so I ask him, not too loud, 'cuz there are people all over, "You got any white tea?"
White tea, often from China, comes from the same plant as green and black teas, but the tiny buds (still covered in downy white hair) are withered and dried in natural sunlight without rolling or fermenting, thus preserving all them healing antioxidants and blood-clot-promoting tannins. Being rarer, it's also more expensive.
"White tea?" He's rummaging in his stash behind the counter. "Uhh, well, all we have today is a white tea with a melon flavor. The other kind, we don't have any in right now. Maybe in a couple weeks."
"What's the melon one like?" A scoop of tea leaves is pushed under my nose. I try not to snort them in. Defiinitely cantaloupe-y. "Some people say you can't really taste it once it's brewed. Some people like it."
I would be one of those people. White tea is pale, light and subtle. Almost sweet. Like it doesn't even need sugar or honey.
"I'll take an ounce." They put a small handful of the dried tea leaves in a plastic baggie. Man, if he didn't write "White Melon" on it with a Sharpie, and we got pulled over, they might think this was something else.
Duuude, I'd be freaking out.
No comments:
Post a Comment