“She raised her hand to cut me off. "I am aware of your epistolary flirtation. Which is all well and good--as long as it's well and good. Before I ask you some questions, perhaps you would like some tea?""That would depend on what kind of tea you were offering.""So diffident! Suppose it was Earl Grey."I shook my head. "Tastes like pencil shavings.""Lady Grey.""I don't drink beverages named after beheaded monarchs. It seems so tacky.""Chamomile?""Might as well sip butterfly wings.""Green tea?""You can't be serious."The old woman nodded her approval. "I wasn't.""Because you know when a cow chews grass? And he or she chews and chews and chews? Well, green tea tastes like French-kissing that cow after it's done chewing all that grass.""Would you like some mint tea?""Only under duress.""English breakfast."I clapped my hands. "Now you're talking!”

“I like pouring your tea, liftingthe heavy pot, and tipping it up,so the fragrant liquid streams in your china cup.Or when you’re away, or at work,I like to think of your cupped hands as you sip,as you sip, of the faint half-smile of your lips.I like the questions – sugar? – milk? –and the answers I don’t know by heart, yet,for I see your soul in your eyes, and I forget.Jasmine, Gunpowder, Assam, Earl Grey, Ceylon,I love tea’s names. Which tea would you like? I saybut it’s any tea for you, please, any time of day,as the women harvest the slopesfor the sweetest leaves, on Mount Wu-Yi,and I am your lover, smitten, straining your tea.- Tea”

“What kind of tea do you want?""There´s more than one kind of tea?...What do you have?""Let´s see... Blueberry, Raspberry, Ginseng, Sleepytime, Green Tea, Green Tea with Lemon, Green Tea with Lemon and Honey, Liver Disaster, Ginger with Honey, Ginger Without Honey, Vanilla Almond, White Truffle Coconut, Chamomile, Blueberry Chamomile, Decaf Vanilla Walnut, Constant Comment and Earl Grey."-"I.. Uh...What are you having?... Did you make some of those up?”

“I like my tea like I like my men,” I say. With the last name “Grey.” But I realize that’s too forward, so I add, “Black.”He raises an eyebrow.“I mean, not that I exclusively like black men,” I say, trying to recover. “I like other kinds of tea. And men.”“Have you ever tasted...white tea, Anna?”

“In Ireland, you go to someone's house, and she asks you if you want a cup of tea. You say no, thank you, you're really just fine. She asks if you're sure. You say of course you're sure, really, you don't need a thing. Except they pronounce it ting. You don't need a ting. Well, she says then, I was going to get myself some anyway, so it would be no trouble. Ah, you say, well, if you were going to get yourself some, I wouldn't mind a spot of tea, at that, so long as it's no trouble and I can give you a hand in the kitchen. Then you go through the whole thing all over again until you both end up in the kitchen drinking tea and chatting. In America, someone asks you if you want a cup of tea, you say no, and then you don't get any damned tea.I liked the Irish way better.”

“A brick could be used as a substitute for the steak my mother-in-law just cooked me. And I asked for medium rare. I wonder what well done would taste and chew like.
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