brought to you by the letter t

So I like tea. This is a recent development. Since Spain. So I guess not all that recent actually. I discovered my love for manzanilla (aka chamomile tea) my last week in the country while I was touring around with my mom, aunt, and cousin. I was sick—probably from all my late nights and end of the semester stress—and my mom suggested that I order some tea at breakfast to help sooth my throat and let the steam open my breathing passages. She had always suggested this when I would get sick at home and I'd never really gotten into the idea, but for some reason this time I let her talk me into it. Maybe it was because after living in Spain for 3 months I had become a more adventurous eater, maybe it was because I knew that the milk in my usual breakfast of hot chocolate and toast would make my throat worse. Either way I found myself ordering manzanilla along with my toastadas. And it was delicious. And that's what I ordered everywhere we went after that. Even in Prague when it was no longer "Manzanilla, ¿por favor?" and it was "Uh, chamomile tea? (I hope he understood that!)"

Sadly I must say that I believe that chamomile tea is better in Europe. Maybe it is the omnipresent cigarette smoke mixed with the steaming tea that perfects the taste. I think if I tried to test that theory with American tea I might be kicked out of my house.

But my love of tea followed me home and last semester my roommate Chaela went to DI and bought some fantastic tea cups. (The one on the left looks very similar to the one that my madre Pilar set out for me to make hot chocolate in every morning, but the one in the center is really my most favorite.) The saucers do not match the cups—it was a thrift store, after all—but they do blend. And I love it. Someday I want my whole set of dishes to be that way—blending, but not matching. A boy I once dated expressed concern about that plan—"It's always good to have one nice set of matching dishes," he said. Then we broke up.