I am not a habitual tea drinker. I have to have my coffee in the morning, good and tasty and caffeinated. I'll drink ice tea in a restaurant at lunch, if I can get good brewed tea with no sweetener. But I won't touch bottled ice teas, which are almost universally sweet. I'm generally too lazy to make my own herbal ice tea in the summer, because it requires planning ahead enough to make hot tea then cool it down.
But when feeling tired and cold, or like I may be getting sick, or just housebound and bored, there is nothing like a cup of hot herb tea. I forget how much I like it. I simply forget to make it. I fall out of the habit in the summer.
This week, with fall weather and fall dark evenings on me, I found myself "mouthy" in the afternoons. Not hungry, but wanting to eat. My seltzer didn't appeal. Had to be hot and filling.
Suddenly I remembered tea. I got out one of my teapots and surveyed my stash of teas from last year. Such names, such marketing. Tension Tamer, Soothing Moments, Camomile Bliss, Lemon Smoother, and simply Peppermint. Except for the last, I'm pretty sure I couldn't tell one from another in a blind taste test. But when I'm in that restless "gimme hot food" mode, four minutes to heat water followed by pouring from the pot, holding the heated mug and surrounding my nose and swallowing the hot liquid and feeling it filling me up wherever I was empty can be just what I need. All that I need for just that moment. Another brief triumph over the siren call of fat sugar and salt.
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