Drink - Victoria Moore takes tea with Mr Nose
"Don't tell my bosses," whispers Giles Hilton, "but I had a heyday of a spring." And no wonder. Giles spent spring near Darjeeling in north-east India - "the nearest place to heaven" - where the snowy peaks of the Himalayas stand erect above the green tea-bushes that cover their lower slopes and a silent wind blows down through the mountains. When Giles, the "nose" for the tea and coffee merchants Whittard of Chelsea, is on his tea-finding missions, he likes to rise early, around four o'clock, and set out on his own to explore the tea plantations. "Most of the hosts know what I'm like - mad Giles - and leave me to it," he explains vigorously.
"But the last time I went on one of my early morning walks, I bumped into the assistant manager of the estate, whom I had never met before. When I later popped into the factory, I was told that he'd been saying: 'There's a white man walking round our estate. What's he doing?'"
What Giles doesn't know about tea would fit easily into a teabag. (Incidentally, he doesn't use teabags himself, ever, although he protests that, if he is given tea made with them, it causes him "no hardship at all".) Indeed, he explains that the choice of tea used in teabags is dictated by the expectations of the British tea-drinker. We think our tea is no good if it doesn't instantly turn deep brown when we dunk a bag in a mug (Giles the Nose winces a little at the thought of bags and mugs). To effect this change, manufacturers have to use very small particles of leaf - apparently not good because, apart from all other evils, they leak out and form a surface layer of scum. And because we also demand instant flavour, bold, astringent Assam is often used as part of a blend. Not that there's anything wrong with Assam, but Giles does prefer Darjeeling.
So do I, after a few minutes and several bowls (rather than cups) of tea in his company. I must admit that I have been a tea sinner. I have never made it in a teapot, with a strainer and handfuls of what seem to be freshly withered leaves, as Giles does. Now I am a convert. First, we drink green tea, a favourite in the Far East for centuries and gaining popularity in Britain since we caught on to its health-giving properties about five years ago. "Everyone makes green tea wrong," confides Giles. "You need only one teaspoon of leaves for a whole potful of water. Any more, and it's quite vicious. Terrifying."
If you are not drinking tea with milk, you ought to think of it as an infusion. If you can see through the liquid, it will have a delicate, rather than weak, flavour and be altogether more palatable than something that looks like warm beer. In the teapot, the tiny green shards of crisp leaf are unfurling and spreading until they resemble torn, freshly picked leaves. The green tea - ours is peach-flavoured - is delicious. Soft peachy vapours rise soothingly off it, although, in the mouth, it does not taste sweet at all. I drink it all, which gives Giles a great excuse to jump up and rifle through his 96 jars of different kinds of tea. The wonder is that all these teas look so different. Jasmine Pearl looks like little black balls wrapped with a feathery white fibre. Because of the machine production methods used, teas coming out of Africa tend to be dark, neat little rolls of leaf. Formosa Lapsang Souchong "Alligator" has huge leaves that are slate grey in colour.
Then there is the taste and aroma. Giles describes teas in an argot similar to that of an oenologist. Teas taste of chestnuts, malt, almond or spinach, and smell of freesias, smoke or honey. He knows each one intimately. Perhaps it is this infectious passion that has won him so many followers. Besides selling all his teas on a highly entertaining website (www.whittard.co.uk), Giles has a veritable army of people around the country - including Mr Johnson in Worcester who likes tea from the Thurbo estate, a garden on the Nepalese border - whom he contacts when rare teas come in.
So try some of his teas, do, they are just as refreshing as he is - and that is no mean feat.
Post this article to
We want to encourage people to comment on our content and to exchange views with other readers and hope this will be done on a courteous basis. However, if you encounter posts which are offensive please let us know by using the 'report this comment' facility or by emailing comments@newstatesman.co.uk and we will take swift action where necessary.
