It's 3:00 AM right now, and I'm burning the midnight oil with my second pot of green tea.
Normally, one pot suffices on an ordinary day, but tonight, I'm combatting fluid retention—one of my PMS symptoms. A comforting brew will ease the discomforts.
I'm no tea purist, unlike my stance on coffee. If it weren't for my recent sensitivity to caffeine, this post would undoubtedly be fueled by coffee. A single origin variety— Mt. Apo, to be exact.
Tonight's choice? A humble bag of Lipton—
yes, the oft frowned-upon green tea "dust."
yes, the oft frowned-upon green tea "dust."
What many fail to realize is that tea is just... tea. Teas have humble beginnings, until we integrate them into art and society, and it became hard to enjoy.
Its origins trace back to an emperor who, unbothered by a dead leaf in his water, took a sip and found its flavor surprisingly delightful. He spread the word, and everyone followed suit.
That leaf might not have even been from the revered Camellia Sinensis—it could have been any leaf, from any tree.
Unlike most teas, Dragon Well is best enjoyed in a glass.
My Personal Favorite? Longjing Tea.
I still remember my first taste, straight from China in 2018, a lower grade Dragon Well (Longjing) from Xihu. Despite the steep price tag of $40, it lasted me a month—money well spent (though my wallet might argue otherwise! hekhek..).
Its aroma was deep, almost like chocolate—a delightful surprise from the usual light, refreshing green teas commonly found here in PH stores.
It was also my initiation into the world of loose leaf teas. There's something satisfying about watching those delicate leaves unfurl and gracefully settle at the bottom of the glass.
Yes, glass, not a cup. It dances its way down gracefully and that's when you know your brew is just right.
The exact $40 brand I got. I didn't realize it's actually a huge box. Photo not mine.
It's the most pleasant of all the teas I've experienced— if you don't count Matcha as one, but that's a different league altogether. In the loose leaf category, I would consider Longjing a win over the more popular Ceylon.
Green tea isn't just a drink for me; it's a ritual that connects me to nature's rhythms.
In its gentle bitterness, I find clarity and focus. It's my companion through late nights of work and quiet mornings of reflection—a reminder to slow down, feel the warm cup and appreciate the moment.
