It may be that the act of drinking tea has a longer and more complex history of ceremony attached to it, but my morning cup of coffee is definitely the one I take time over most. Tea I have on the hoof like fuel, rushing around Fig1 HQ or the shop, up and down to the store room, a cup of tea is often carried with me, regularly left half finished in favour of a new cup or just plain forgotten by the computer. Tea is a simple affair for me - dunk a "brew bag", as my little sister calls it, in a cup of hot water; wring it out well (I like the tea strong); and a tiny splash of milk; and proceed to scald your mouth with it.Coffee, on the other hand, I like to savour. The smell of coffee has always seemed magical. Since long before I drank the drink, the smell of it grinding in the restaurants we had when growing up would tantalize me and I maybe myself persevere with drinking it until the bitter taste seamed like nectar. I often drink it as espresso, and I use an old fashioned stove top espresso maker and always warm the cup. I enjoy the time it takes to make. But I vary the way I make it by mood: sometimes a splash of sugar as a real pic-me-up, sometimes neat, dark and black, sometimes with a little extra hot water, or sometimes with hot frothed milk.
However I drink it, I like to take time making it, choosing the right mug or cup, and then finding a spot to drink it away from the computer screen and the telephone - just 10 minutes of concentrating on self indulgence. And for extra indulgence, I have just helped myself to some of these two-tone ceramic mugs from the shop for Fig1 HQ. Well, they do seem to be made for our kitchen.Portuguese ceramics by Rice
