English Breakfast

"I have just the thing." my grandmother said, already reaching for the kettle before I had fully spoken a sentence. She somehow understood. She moved in a rhythm as if she had done this a hundred times. There was no looking for anything, no measuring. Just a strong pot and milk poured in. She didn't ask me how much I wanted. She just set a steaming mug in front of me. I inhaled the vapor. It was inviting and strong but somehow a little earthy and comforting. 

"Drink it," she softly encouraged. I felt something in me rise along with the trail of steam. I breathed it in. It smelled bold and malty. I took a sip. The milk softened the initial sharp bite of the black tea. A gentle sweetness from the sugar followed. Balancing the deep earthy undertones of the robust bold tea flavor.  There was nothing complicated about it. Some mornings just need something classic and strong. She knew better then anyone. I think wisdom is like that sometimes. It comes warm and steady and may not always look fancy. But it stands the test of time. 

"Through wisdom a house is built, and by understanding it is established; by knowledge the rooms are filled with all precious and pleasant riches." Proverbs 24:3-4

Breakfast Tea as it should be. Not too complicated but strong enough to stand up to milk and sugar. A rustic, sweet cup that brings good news all day long. A blend of African and Indian Tea.