Tea House Muse from the North Shore

I brewed myself a cup of the Castleton Moonlight this fine (hot) morning for inspiration as I searched for the muse today. My favorite thing about this tea is it's unique leaves. It's no wonder it's flavor is complex and hard to pin down. The leaves are long and wiry like oolong but thin and twisted like most black teas. And the colors of the leaves range all over the tea color map. I can't really taste it though, I think I under-brewed it or my taste buds are longing for something a little less refined. But I'm keeping away from those heavy monsters, as much as they call my name, until my stomach qi is balanced.

As I drank this fine elixir this morning I thought about the tea shop in my mind that I've been imagining ever since I went to Hawaii in 2006?! 2007?

It's a tea shop beach shack on the North Shore. Tiny, cozy and full of home. Geraniums in pots along the front porch. Maybe white linen curtains in the windows.

It's a tea shop that's busiest in the early early morning hours.

The time when surfers get up to catch those peaceful and unspoiled waves. I like the idea of bathing suits and beach sweaters, because it's cold at dawn by the sea. And this is the sea that's the middle of the sea. Not the coast of a continent. A tiny island coast. A coast that these deep sea waves are not expecting to find on their long rolling path to any shore. Their crashing is surprised and crisp and wild like the roar of a young lion.

This is the sound that will be the constant soundtrack to my selling chinese oolongs and japanese green teas. Sweet Matcha with milk and honey. Iron Goddess of Mercy oolong from the Fujian Province (check it out, it's a beautiful fable). And Castleton Moonlight from Darjeeling of course.

The shop is wood like a boat house with one long large window facing out toward the sea a small distance away and a patio garden with benches and flowers. Inside it's warm and quiet and the roaring waves are soothing in the slightly muffled acoustics. Their are lots of rocking chairs to sit in. The floor is covered in sand no matter how much you sweep it.

You can get bowls of fresh figs and cream, big chunks of hearty toast with butter and jam, oatmeal piled high with things to make it taste better like sugar and peaches. If you don't surf, you can sit barefoot and read the paper and drink the pot of your choice before the heat of the day and we can solve the world's problems (or more to the point the problems we have with each other because there's nothing wrong with the world).

During the day, ice teas rule the court. With all kinds of beachy additions, apple slices, mint flavored star shaped ice cubes. Iced Mate with pommegranite juice. And maybe we're still open for dusk. You know I love tea lights and you can't really light candles until it's dark enough to have them so I guess we'll be open long enough to light tea lights. And by then it's the calming herbal blends: lavender, lemongrass, vervain, camomile, peppermint, cardamom.

It's a beach tea house.

And if I never live in Hawaii (which I never want to do) this is how I want my tea shop, wherever it is, to feel when your inside, like you can come prop your board up by the front door and drink in a peaceful dawn with me and Erik.