Why I Do Not Get Iced Tea, by Pete Tzinski

Here's a Jambalaya picture.

Because I'm in a Jambalaya mood today. I think we may have to have that for dinner tomorrow. If the vast readership of this blog will inundate me with recipes, I'll pick one and try it out. Otherwise, I'll just do what I normally do, which is make it up as I go until it looks like A) Jambalaya and B) Something I want to Eat.


If this post were a conversation, and it were taking place in my house, then right now you'd be hearing groans and complaining of "Oh ye gads, he's going to go on about tea again..."

Yes I am. And the house is empty today, so there's no one to tell me to be quiet and go back to my writing. Hah!

Iced tea is a staple of the rest of my family, be it my wife or me mam, or what-have-you. Everyone likes iced tea! Whether it's sun-tea, or just sitting in a pitcher in the fridge tea, it's iced tea and it's welcomed...except...by...me...

I've tried it. Several times now. Some of those attempts were made under duress, I'd like to add, but nonetheless, attempts were made.

Mostly, the reason I don't like it is, it tastes like cold hot tea. That is to say, when I drink iced tea, it tastes like when I've been writing for a long time and suddenly remember my teacup and I take a drink, and it's long since gone cold and started to separate into base layers of sediment. Any muse-like haze of creative bliss is instantly shattered by that old, cold hot tea taste, which is like having your teeth knocked out with a big stinky fist, to pick a phrase.

Iced tea tastes like that, except it's made and drunk on purpose!

And that's why I don't get iced tea.

Now give me hot tea! Yes! A good Earl Gray loose leaf tea is nothing to be sneezed at (or in) and while I have some Irish Breakfast tea (also loose leaf; always loose leaf) I tend to drink that less frequently. I drink my tea black, thus far, and it's too potent. It needs something (lemon? Milk? Cream? I have no idea.) to turn it into something I could drink and not try to run a car off of.

I have two fairly deep shelves of a cupboard devoted to tea in this house. All sorts of things, from the above mentioned Earl Gray, to my beloved Empress of China, to a surprisingly delicious Strawberry Pur-eh tea, which I avoided drinking for a long time (because I generally don't like fruit teas). Once I tried it, it was gone in a week. And I'd bought a fair bit of it, mind you.

Black Raspberry (another exception, but a rare one), Ceylon Kenilworth, Rose of Shozu (FIFTEEN DOLLARS AN OUNCE FOR THAT STUFF. Ye gads.) African Rosebush, several other Rooibos teas I can't remember, and so on, and so forth. Lots of tea.

I'd end this post with a plaintive whine for someone to get me some tea, only I've got a very good pot of Earl Gray tea in front of me that's slowly vanishing, so I'm content.

I'll end it with a plaintive whine for about six more hours built into each of my days, so's I can not only make my robot series deadline, but also get a few hours sleep each night (by few, I mean more than my current three)

Right. Off to bang out a few more thousand words!