Stainless Steel Safety of a Rusty Kamjove

Drats. Even after less than a month of use, I noticed these rust spots inside my new Kamjove teapot at work. Cheap Chinese stainless steel strikes again. Probably not enough nickel. This teapot is most likely the lowest grade 200 series stainless  steel. I'm resigned to such low quality steel by now as the cookware market is flooded with 'em.  I haplessly thought my blood cells need extra iron from the rust but the sad reality is that the body cannot use such inorganic forms of iron. Overusing a tetsubin is probably a road to kidney and gall stones.

Many people assume quality stainless steel is completely inert.  Even high quality food grade stainless steel (18/10 and 18/8) still leaches out trace amounts of iron, chromium, manganese and nickel- all "supposedly" in safe amounts.   But the hexvalent form of chromium in stainless steel is not the form that the human body uses. Double drats. You could go for a glass kettle if you want to keep your water pure but most likely your water traveled some distance in steel pipes if you use tap water.

Modern life is so full of uncontrollable chemical complexities. I spend a lot of time trying to avoid synthetic estrogens in plastic but in reality if you eat out a lot like me, you have to accept you have little control of what happens to your food before it reaches your gullet. Most restaurants store foods commonly in plastic tubs.  Suppliers to restaurants also package foods in plastic. The taint of plastic is nigh impossible to avoid in the modern food chain.

I bought this cheap Kamjove in full knowledge of the risks.  I'll keep using this teapot. It's definitely safer than a Roman leaded pewter pitcher and to be preferred over a kettle with plastic parts.

Jamaica Tea

It's not Rastaman tea so you need not play any Bob Marley tunes in your head unless of course you want to. "Jamaica" pronounced ha-ma-ee-ca refers to a refreshing iced beverage made from the hibiscus flower and you can find it in most Mexican cantinas. I also drank gallons of it in Egypt and Jordan where they call it karkadé and often offer it as a welcoming beverage at hotels while you wait to be checked in. The best versions were whirred in a blender and had an impressive foam head.

You can cold brew the flower sepals overnight for a fruitier taste or brew it hot which brings out the cinnamon notes. It's my bedtime tea tonight along with a dollop of acacia honey. A beloved friend brought me this Hugarian honey from his travels and I can totally see him being taken away by the aesthetics of this jar - the honey is ever so light and demure.

I get the entire dried flower in the bulk bins at the grocery store.  They endearingly look like little flames.  And from time to time I like to drink karkadé when contemplating David Robert lithographs of Petra and Thebes recollecting my dusty adventures in the baksheesh belt.  Due to the natural antiseptic properties of hibiscus, one never had to worry about drinking karkadé even in the most suspicious conditions.

Teapot for Life

I was watching "Queen of Versaille" yesterday- a strangely absorbing documentary about a billionaire couple trying to build the largest private residence in America.  Despite their somewhat disgusting levels of overblown materialism, I couldn't help feeling that none of us are innocent. All of us have too much of one thing or another.

Behold the dreadful Wedgwood teapot that fills me with consumerist regret. Hektor asked me to reveal this pot a few posts back.  Five years ago, I wanted the minimalist unadorned basalt Wedgwood teapot with a rectangular handle but somehow ended up with this fussy matron of a teapot replete with a neo-classic cherub, toga toting goddesses and a smoke-filled greek sacrifice.  I cringe when I look at it but can't quite bring myself to sell it back on ebay out of sheer laziness. I have brewed tea in it once five years ago and have a dim memory of it being altogether an inconvenient experience.

My china cabinet is filled with such useless space eaters- even worse, more than half of the teapots are chipped or cracked and I can't bear to throw them out. I decided a solution to simplify my life would be to find an unbreakable teapot- with such a teapot I can hit a burglar over the head in a pinch and still brew tea the very next morning. Most importantly- if there ever was the "Big One" and my house was flattened, I would still most likely be able to brew delicious tea in this unbreakable teapot if I could only shovel it out from the earthquake debris.

Unbreakable probably means stainless steel. I'm aware stainless steel brewing is not optimum for delicate teas. But I'm tired of being broken hearted every time the inevitable happens with ceramic and glass teapots. My aesthetic choices for stainless are quite limited.  There's the dumpy but sturdy German Frielings.

There's an even dumpier but overpriced Italian Ufficio Tecnico Alessi Teapot.

None of them even remotely captures my heart and the thought of having to use them for the rest of my life fills me with sighs.  I may have to retreat on this lifetime teapot concept...

Five Enemies of Tea Enjoyment

1. Bad tea
2. Bad water
3. Bad brewing
4. Illness dulling the senses
5. Bad feeling - which could arise from Enemies 1-4 and/or can come from sources external to tea.

Some days a girl can't win and can simultaneously suffer all five enemies of tea enjoyment. I laid down   a white flag tonight and am nursing a hot toddy. I'll just start fresh tomorrow.

I've been contemplating the course of my life wondering what will happen to me in another seven years. Undoubtedly my sheng will be barely aged and dry still. But I have no idea for the rest.

 In Hawaii, I saw these two very different men plying the same trade at two different farmer's markets. The coconut samurai on the left also sold biodegradable crocs on the side at the Pahoa market.  The rather joyless ex-marine on the right was rather carelessly hacking coconut tops at the Hilo Farmer's market. Can any prediction be made about either men?

Long Brewed Aged Oolong

Last Friday I brewed up one of Ira's aged oolongs when it dawned on me that in another dimension- long lost friends were expecting me to materialize for lunch. What to do? For the first time in my tea drinking life, I decided to throw in everything- already brewed tea, leaves and more hot water into a thermos to take it all with me. I cringed a little mistreating this small batch farmer's roasted oolong but I didn't want to leave my tea behind- tag team with my husband was not possible as he already had a mug of coffee in hand.

While walking to the subway, I allowed myself a few sips expecting a lesser brew. I was pleasantly surprised the thermos oolong tasted more flavorful and softer in the mouth than a more carefully brewed sit-down session. This thermos brew left a pleasing caramel sweetness on my tongue. Did the vigorous swishing from my walk extract more nuance out of the leaf?

For every set of tea leaves, there exists an exact optimum process to bring out the best flavor. From water composition, brew temperature, brew time, water to tea ratio- tea has too many parameters you can mess up. I am a proud wrongfu master, sloshing, splashing and even completely forgetting about my brew from time to time. But the moment I had first sipped the delightful tea from the thermos, I had a hazy glimmer that I had miraculously brought out the best in this tea purely by accident.

So in deconstructing what could have gone right, I see infusing more water for a longer time of about 6 minutes was better for at least this aged oolong. However after the 30 minute train ride, I checked again on the brew- it had turned too bitter and the golden window was past. I was glad to have the oolong accompany me into the city.

My favorite food writer Harold McGee sheds some light here- he writes about water being a flavor enhancer and how dilution can bring out brighter and more sparkly flavors.   I'm not one to use a refractometer on my tea but I think a scale might be worth an investment to attain more readily a golden ratio.

I've been soldiering on these last days of winter in a sad state- I've been wholly negligent with all my obligations hiding under a fuzzy blanket. Most days I go to work and I constantly think of how I can get back under my fuzzy blanket. I should just make a hat out of my dear blanket so I can have a measure of relief every where I go.