The Strange baker and I slipped past the gaggle of giggling winter coats to the tea bar at the back of Icha Tea’s deceptively long restaurant. Beyond the bar were tables spaced far apart, and so we were seated in comfort and relative quiet.
While I know near nothing about the delicate intricacies of tea and the steeping, serving, and drinking thereof, the Baker’s eyes were eager and adventurous. The menu was divided into white, green, oolong, black, and pu ers teas. Nudging me toward an area of tea I likely wouldn’t have any other place. We decided on splitting a ripened pu er set, along with two of the mystery tea snacks.
The snack turned out to be mixed nuts and old, dried apple chips. The set was ornate, two cups, a glass tea pot for the first round, a clay tea pot for the second round (tea has rounds apparently, the more I learn…), and some filters, all arranged on a raised wooden tray carved with the shape of a tree. Each pot held four two-ounce cups.
Pu er is the equivalent of scotch in the tea world, I’m told. It’s fragrance is much heavier, headier, pungent, and certainly;y not for everyone. The ripened pu er the Baker and I drank had been aged the most out of all the teas provided, aged seven years for its distinctive qualities.
Distinctive is the word. I’ve never had a tea like this. While initially sweet, the strong earthy tones kept distracting me, reminding me of open barrels of salted fish, musky forests, and salted peat torched under hot summer sun. Definitely not something I would stock for everyday tea, but something unique.
“This is not a light and flowery tea.” The Strange Baker chuckled, munched on an apple chip, and poured the second round, straining the thin amber fluid through the filter, refilling our cute glass teapot with its suggestive spout.
To me, the pu er felt like a bridging drink. Not something I would have alone, but between other meals or courses. Not a flavour I would end a meal on, but between an app and a main, or leading into a savoury dish, I could see the forceful scent acting as an effective palette cleanser.
The Strange Baker nodded as we finished off the second round. “It does need something. I don’t necessarily think the apple chips are a good compliment. It doesn’t mix well with sweet. It’s not a rich tea: this does make me want rich food.”
Maybe it was that we had demolished the apple chips and nuts; we were both hungry at the end of our tea. I could see myself coming back to Icha’s tea bar to read or write at their bar, but at the end of our set, we were both left hungry for something sweeter, something savoury, something more barbeque.
Icha Tea
235 Spadina Ave Unit 4, Toronto, ON M5T 2E2