Trey’s bedside (imagine it smells of hot tea, crisp linen sheets, and a touch of his aftershave, which contains notes of ocean and evergreen).
One of the very first things Tai learns about Trey—before she even learns his first name—is that he doesn’t drink alcohol, only water and hot tea. (PS: You can revisit that epic moment HERE.)
Since that time, Tai and I have both learned a lot about tea, all kinds of tea: the bright floral notes of a first-flush Darjeeling, the smoky punch of lapsang souchong, the earthy sweetness of pu-erh. We’ve also learned the intricacies of tea preparation, because Trey takes his steaming hot without a speck of cream or sugar.
Which is not how I drank it growing up in the flatlands of Middle Georgia. Back then, there was one kind of tea—Lipton—and one way to drink it—sweet and strong and ice cold.
Unless you wanted to make Russian tea. Which was sweet tea mixed with orange juice, pineapple juice, cinnamon and clove, and then heated just to boiling. My fondest memories of the beverage are from the nights my father and brother would vacate the house, leaving my mother and me to our own devices. This meant popcorn for supper, Love Boat and Fantasy Island for entertainment, and Russian tea as a nightcap. In my imagination, I was partaking of a drink with a rich and storied history, sipped by czars and czarinas against a snow-bound landscape as exotic as Narnia.
In truth, Russian tea is an American invention from sometime in the late nineteenth/early twentieth century (you can read more of its fascinating evolution at Yesterdish). It reached an apex of popularity in the 1960s, however, with the creation of Tang, which led to many “instant” versions of the drink, most of them now named Hot Spiced Tea (the descriptive “Russian” eliminated in a patriotic nod to the US space program, which chose Tang as the breakfast drink of its astronauts).
A fine example of a Russian tea samovar (with appropriate snacks).
But as American as Russian tea is, Russian tea culture is supremely Russian. Its story begins in the early days of the Siberian Route, the historic road that connected Russia to Siberia and China in the seventeenth century. At first, black tea was too expensive for anyone who wasn’t royal or rich, and the ceremonies surrounding it were equally luxurious. Porcelain teacups rimmed with gold, gilded glass tea holders called podstakanniks, and the magnificent samovars which delivered boiling water in supreme elegance.
My mother’s recipe was not elegant, but then, neither were we. And that was the best part. If you’re looking for a little spot of warmth and comfort this holiday season, I highly recommend it.
Dinah Floyd’s Hot Spiced Tea
2 quarts sweet tea
1 can (6 oz) pineapple juice
1 cup orange juice
1/2 teaspoon each: ground cinnamon and cloves
Add cinnamon and cloves to tea in saucepan and bring to a boil. Add pineapple juice and orange juice and heat just until boiling again. Garnish with lemon or orange slices. Great for afternoon tea or anytime when the weather is a little chilly.
