I lost my tea

So for the last 2 weeks I have been busy in a productive way, whilst having the time of my life meandering my way around Mumbai and Delhi, attending Lakmé Fashion Week, visiting designers at their studios and basically eating at every opportunity I got. This running around and ever need to feed my mouth consumes a lot of my energy, which only the simple act of having good brewed tea can provide. In simple terms, I run on tea.

My daily routine consists of having a mug of masala ‘chai’ (or tea for those unaccustomed to the term) with my breakfast, followed by another cup of any other flavour after dinner. 2 cups in 1 day and I am set to go.

Masala chai originated from India (or at least one would hope!) as it is the staple drink in most Indian households. So you would expect to indulge in the best tea once in India.

Fake
Fake

However, I was extremely disappointed to receive the drink in front of me dubbed as ‘masala chai’. Every restaurant, every hotel, every shop, every (the list goes on) … we sipped on this new fad of machine-produced masala tea. In India, when I order a cup of masala tea, I automatically mean the ‘proper’, brewed and cooked-over-a-stove kinda one. Not the one where you open a packet and add hot water to. Not the one where you add water to a masala tea bag. This is India for crying out loud!

Admittedly, my morning cuppa consists of a masala tea bag. But the circumstances are different. I live in London.

I do occasionally make the authentic version over a stove, and nothing can beat the aroma or the taste.

The only place where I found the authentic masala chai was at the street vendors’ stalls, where their tea brews for hours on end to supply the demand of the working class all day long. This was the real deal.

Oh India! Why this trend to produce machine-brewed tea, when the original version is so much better and so original? In this change to provide a perhaps more universal choice, the actual authenticity has been lost. The decision to provide this fake substitute is beyond me and, on many a time, I had to resort to the option of having coffee instead.

Rant over.

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