Elevating Tea in the Restaurant Setting

As sommeliers, it is our job to take the nebulous proposition for a "nice, dry, red" and turn it into a wonderful, expected or unexpected glass of wine. I know that my mind starts to race, and after a mini-oenophilic interview—"what were you thinking of eating tonight?" or "what wine have you drank recently and enjoyed?"—I have the knowledge, inventory, glassware, etc. to fulfill such a request. Spirits are a natural extension of a sommeliers repertoire, and coffee now, too. (What else would keep us going?) Lost in the mix is tea, and many programs offer only generic examples: green, black, English breakfast. It seems that restaurants are as accustomed to taking a passive order as guests are to receiving a thoughtless brew.

Before learning gaiwan (gung fu) tea service with competition grade, single origin teas through an extensive tableside program at Eleven Madison Park, my knowledge was incredibly rudimentary. Alongside such detailed service, quality and knowledge were elevated across our entire tea program, and we became meticulous in precise water temperature, measuring tea, and understanding desired flavor results. My own curiosity was ignited. Learning about tea, from history to table, became beautiful knowledge worthy of the same scholarship that I devoted to other drinks. Running a successful tea program driven by sommeliers not only teaches new flavors and textures, but it unearths a time-honored ceremony, ultimately broadening one’s understanding of all beverages.

Categories of Tea

All tea comes from the plant species Camellia sinensis, which is an evergreen shrub that originated around the Yunnan province of southern China. There are two relevant sub-species: Camellia sinensis var sinensis (small leaf) and Camellia sinensis var assamica (large leaf), with a range of size variations and local cultivars in-between. Teas are named and characterized by processing method:

  • Green tea is processed to preserve the green color by "killing the green" in a wok (China) or by steaming the leaf (Japan). It is usually made from small leaves.
  • White tea is produced from delicate buds, and preserves its color through early picking and air drying, which results in little oxidation.
  • Yellow tea is slowly roasted, slightly oxidized, and full in flavor (hay, white mushrooms).
  • Black tea (or in China, red) refers to specimens that are fully oxidized, and usually made from large-leaf varietals. The leaves are picked and rolled (bruising), which oxidizes the oils and turns the leaves black. Black tea examples are Darjeeling from India and Ceylon Orange Pekoe from Sri Lanka (the tea is named for the country's original name, Ceylon; "orange" refers to the Dutch House of Orange, as merchants from the Dutch East India Company originally traded the tea).
  • Oolong tea traverses the entire category between green and black, and has the most incredible range. Some oolongs are greener, some are more oxidized, and some have even been roasted to add another level of complexity. Just as the category is vast, the leaf size can be quite variable as well, usually falling between green and black teas.
  • Traditional pu-erh tea comes from the mountains of Southern China in the Yunnan province and is thought to be one of the oldest expressions of tea. Though unique for many reasons, its most singular quality is that it is a fermented tea. Classically, these large-leafed varietals are picked as green teas, then though a complex system of sun drying and fermenting, it results in a form called mao cha. Like a vintner with many vats to choose from, the loose teas age until they are steamed and then pressed together into various shapes, like round cakes (bingcha), rectangular bricks and birds' nests (tuocha). Plummy and very tannic when young, these teas are meant to age and mellow over many years to become more subdued, with notes of cinnamon, and nostalgic aromas reminiscent of entering an old attic. The historic processing method of producing pu'erh from green tea is called sheng ("raw"), as a way to differentiate against shu("cooked"). The latter process was invented in 1973 as a way to speed up aging of the tea by heating it, as to make it more approachable at a young age. Because they appreciate in value and fetch high prices at auction, it is important to look out for counterfeit pu'erhs.
  • Finally, if an infusion contains botanicals that are not from the tea plant itself—like chamomile, mint, Mt. Olympus Flower, etc.—it should not be called tea. 


Left: Sheng (raw, un-cooked) pu'erh; Middle: Anxi, Fujian "WangChun" (Forever Spring) Mountain Golden Buddha Hand oolong; Right: Wuyi Mountains, Fujian, Doncong oolong
(photo courtesy of The Mandarin's Tea Room)

The Origin and Rise of Tea

Understanding tea’s history is to peek at the mighty Chinese dynasties (falling in and out of love with tea), their trade with Europe, and the Europeans' attempt at—albeit with some success—colonizing the Far East. To quote Tom Standage (A History of the World in 6 Glasses), “The rise of tea was entangled with the growth of Britain as a world power and set the stage for further expansion of its commercial and imperial might.”

Where did it all start? According the Mr. Standage, man first discovered tea's properties in the Eastern Himalayas, along the modern-day India-China border. Prehistoric inhabitants noticed the medicinal value of the Camellia sinensis plant, whether they were chewing the leaves for increased energy (and a degree of focus from the amino acid theanine), or utilizing its antibacterial properties by rubbing it on their wounds.

Both Buddhist and Taoist monks alike were credited for spreading the tea gospel in the sixth century, as it aided them in their respected meditation rituals. Fast-forward to the Tang dynasty (18-907 CE), when tea was the fuel of China’s Golden Age and the national beverage. Its heyday continued through the Sung dynasty, but tea's popularity completely yielded in the wake of the 13th century's Mongol revolution. Centuries later, the intricacies of China's tea-drinking culture were elevated after the beverage's introduction to Japan (in powdered form, or a la matcha) in 1911—and the Japanese perfected the modern-day tea ceremony.

How did tea get to Europe? The Chinese were uninterested in most European goods, fostering little trade between the two. What could the Europeans give China that they, the superior nation of the day, did not already have themselves? Portugal was the first European country to formally trade with China (in the 1500s), and it was over a century later that Dutch sailors sailed the first commercial vessel of tea back home in 1657. They started by transporting China’s favored green tea, but over time black tea’s stability—as it is already oxidized—made it the beverage of choice. (It’s akin to Madeira coming to the Americas.) Interestingly, Europeans incorrectly assumed that black and green tea were different species.

Even though tea preceded coffee in Europe, at first it remained a luxury item and was thus cost-prohibitive. But by the time Britain emerged as the tea-centric hub of Europe at the end of the 17th Century, nearly the entire population could afford to drink it. Why? The British East India Company established trading posts in China, which drove prices down for the population. And while women were barred from male-only coffee houses, they took a shine to tea stores and tea gardens. Tea was equally consumed across gender and socioeconomic classes, and tea marketing became more prominent. In 1706, Twinings, one of the western world's oldest continuously operating tea merchants, was founded in London.

Alongside tea’s rising popularity the global reach and might of the British Empire expanded. The Industrial Revolution of the 18th Century, rife with machinery and efficiency, required the longevity and focus of its workers. Thus, tea was the mandated beverage of choice, so as to keep the factory employees operating at maximum capacity alongside humming equipment. Besides, it was a better option than the previous beer allowance administered to factory employees. (At least in terms of efficiency!)

With prosperity came some trouble. America’s action in The Boston Tea Party of 1773 showed frustration with the British government’s favoritism toward the East India Trading Company, to whom it gave a monopoly on tea trade in the colonies. And as troubles with the tea trade were adding to insurrectionary fervor in the American colonies, trouble was brewing across the ocean with China’s increasing isolationism towards Britain. When the Chinese demanded silver for tea, the trading company again exercised its might. Using opium from India—a trade that they controlled—they created an elaborate scheme to get China addicted to the drug, thus creating a dire need for English trade. This illicit dance lasted until China tried to put an end to it in 1839—and the First Opium War ensued for the next four years. This one-sided battle went decisively to the mightier British, and exposed a great change—China was no longer the world’s greatest superpower.

As relations with China were declining, the British looked elsewhere for a source for their beloved tea: India. Botanist Sir Joseph Banks was sent to discover what plants might thrive there. When a tea plant was discovered in Assam in 1820, the answer was clear. By 1899 Britain imported a meager seven thousand tons of Chinese tea, compared to 100-thousand tons from India.

Tea was the product that brought the rise and fall of great nations, united and alienated, fueled golden ages—industrial revolutions and purity of thought—and united classes through beverage equity.

Tea In Restaurants

You have guided your guests though their entire beverage options during the meal; why take time off when dessert rolls around? Treat your tea menu as a wine list, resplendent with dynamic options and an interesting menu mix. Offer fantastic quality for the more familiar (Earl Grey that has beautiful real bergamot oil), but play around with keeping some of those easy-to-order items off the menu, replaced by more unusual samples—I’ve seen less oxidized oolongs substitute wonderfully for green tea, and yellow tea for white tea drinkers, and even Mt. Olympus flower—a more peppery and equally calming alternative to chamomile. Let’s face it, in wine we may talk about 100-year-old vines and high elevation, but in tea you can start mentioning 2,000-year-old trees and 1,500 meter tea plantations! Get excited to explore tea’s diversity.

In the same way that importers and good distributors cultivate relationships with you, their accounts, so should your tea suppliers. It should be a personal relationship, and buyer education should be a pillar of their company. Working with a tea importer means access to seasonal offerings of teas that perhaps you have never even heard of. I have had the pleasure of working with Sebastian Beckwith and Ana Dane of New York Citiy’s In Pursuit of Tea. They have mentored me, and continue to teach me about tea, maintaining an open-door policy in their educational studio. They contact me when interesting teas come to our shores, as rare and seasonal teas are finite. Best of all, Sebastian has introduced me to the small network of tea fanatics around the city. 

The menu and pricing is a way to encourage and entice. One method is to offer a wide range of selections, but to keep all of the teas at the same price. I’ve worked with this strategy successfully. At different prices, the workhorse teas can keep a guest blind to more interesting choices, but with price being equal, it seems like less of a risk for the guest to step out of their comfort. 

On the opposite end, at Eleven Madison Park we highlighted a reserve selection apart from the usual list. The featured selection rotated; we frequently offered high mountain oolongs, aged pu’erh, and matcha. These were prepared tableside, and despite a higher cost—usually over $20—it was clear to the guest that they were getting tea of the highest quality, and receiving personal attention in the process. Guests could not only enjoy multiple steepings of the teas (where appropriate), but they were able to taste a tea’s evolution and differences in each brew. Here, there was an unmistakable sense of value, though it takes a considerable investment of time, materials, training, etc.

Another radical concept is to change the position of tea in the meal. We often think of it as something for the end of lunch or dinner, but consider offering it at the beginning of a dining experience. It is no different than going to a Chinese or Japanese restaurant, where genmaicha or heavily smoked hojicha bancha (a style produced from a later harvest of plants destined for sencha) make dynamic beverages through an umami-laden meal. However, instead of just offering bottomless cups, a restaurant can select a beautiful pu’erh or long-lasting oolong, and continually re-infuse the leaves as the dinner progresses. It would be a subtle way to teach the longevity and change in high quality tea, and very few people would consider this a substitute to the wine or cocktails that they were already going to order. 

There is no clear-cut answer to tea menus, and Sebastian weighed in on the matter. “Most restaurants just price the teas all the same, no matter how much they cost.” He argues that the lack of mark-up relative to their value is a negative, as "People will get lost in the choices and may not know which are the more interesting teas that are worth exploring."

Finally, how restaurants approaching making tea is the biggest hurdle, and messing this up means everything else is all for naught. The danger here parallels a similar problem with elevating coffee in restaurants. Increased knowledge meant people were keen on bringing in better beans to their restaurant, but many continued with inferior brewing methods, or allowed higher-quality beans to go stale prior to use. The better product did not translate to heightened flavors, which ultimately meant wasted inventory. Suffice to say that a full-blown tea ceremony is not a good option for 99.99% of restaurants, but there are certain controls that can increase a tea experience. Water temperature is the easiest place to start. Green and white teas should be infused between 170-185° F, and oolongs between 185-210° F. Black tea likes water just off of a boil, and pu-erh should start infusing into water with a rolling boil. With water at the appropriate temperature, a guideline for loose teas should be 3 grams of tea to 6 oz. of water. In a fast-paced restaurant setting with no time to weigh each order, a teaspoon of very densely rolled teas (or 2 tablespoons of billowing, less dense teas) should approximate this weight. Finally, brew for 2 to 3 minutes, and sample it every so often. This will inform your palate and lead to better understanding of the process, as these are not static rules, but instead suggested parameters. Always taste and use intuition in the same way one calibrates an espresso grinder. Some days, shorter brew times are necessary, while on other days it may take another 30 seconds or so. So much with tea is in the hands of the producer, it is important to get to know tea at different stages so you can make adjustments when necessary. 

Peter Weltman is a sommelier and journalist living in New York City. After working in the dining room of Eleven Madison Park restaurant, he worked as a sommelier on the opening team at The NoMad Hotel Restaurant. During his tenure with the company, he traveled around New York State to document every producer profile in the I Heart NY: A Moment in New York Cusine cookbook. His favorite tea is WuYi ShuiXian (Water Fairy) cliff tea from China.

 

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