Sam Twining: connoisseur of fine teas

Press, 22 November 1989, Page 22

Sam Twining: connoisseur of fine teas

By

MAVIS AIREY

FOR SAM TWINING, a fine tea is like a fine wine. It is worth taking trouble over. Not only should the blend be chosen thoughtfully — to suit the time of day, the weather, the food and the company — it deserves to be prepared and presented with the utmost care. A nine to 15-cups-a-day man, he likes to start off with a blend of Indian and Ceylon teas such as English Breakfast to get himself “firing on six cylinders” and will have a repeat when he arrives at the office “because I need to be kept awake.” By lunchtime, he will be ready for a gentler brew. Darjeeling, perhaps, with its delicate, muscatel flavour. In the afternoon, it will depend on the weather: “If it’s hot, Lapsang Souchong and cucumber sandwiches take me to seventh heaven.” If it’s merely warm, bergamot-flavoured Earl Grey or lemon-scented tea might be the choice. He likes to blend Earl Grey with Yunnan or Keemmun China teas to let the nuances come through. If it’s cold, his favourite is Russian Caravan, a rich blend of China black and Oolong brown teas cherished by the old Russian aristocracy. In the evening, the choice would be different again. After drinking red wine, he likes the “happy transfer” to the robust Prince of Wales, regarded as the Burgundy of China teas. After white wine, his favourite is Oolong, whose flavour he likens to ripe peaches.

What he drinks most in the evenings is Rose Pouchong, which is low in caffeine and flavoured with rose petals. Jasmine, too, is famous as a digestive tea, and other herbal infusions are increasing in popularity, particularly with people concerned about their caffeine intake.

While there is less caffeine in tea than coffee, the amount in different teas varies enormously, he says. Indian has the most, Ceylon has a lot less and China tea has only a little. Jasmine, and Green Gunpowder have 2 per cent caffeine only. Herbal infusions such as camomile and mint — he refuses to call them

teas because they contain no tea — also contain no caffeine.

As the corporate relations director of his family’s famous tea firm, Sam Twining travels the world introducing people to the joys of tea drinking, visiting places where tea is grown and served, and training hotel staff in the finer points of preparing the perfect brew. In 1977, he was awarded an 0.8. E. for his work in the export trade. He is also the company historian and archivist. In September, he opened a teapot museum in Norwich, which holds the largest collection of British teapots in the world.

He spent three days in Christchurch recently, training staff at the Parkroyal, holding tea parties, keeping his eyes open for unusual teapots. The visit was the first stop in a New Zealand tour which will take in the Plaza Hotel in Wellington and the Regent in Auckland. Afternoon tea has been enjoying a resurgence, he says, and he is asked to open tea lounges in

hotels all over the world. He agrees, with the proviso that he is allowed to train their staff so they perform the task properly. “It’s so easy to do the wrong thing,” he says. The menu is the first thing to be considered. “The consumer is so much more informed now.” He recommended that hotels have a choice of at least 10 teas. Staff also need to know how to make tea properly, and how to keep the teapots clean. Simple tasks, one might think, but Sam Twining makes it sound like an art.

“Tea loves oxygen. That’s why you must bring cold water to the boil to maximise the oxygen,” he insists. For the same reason, the kettle should be turned off as soon as it boils and the water poured immediately over the tea. It then needs to be left to infuse, the length of time varying according to the type of tea. “Staff must understand that they either bring the tea when it has been brewed and say it’s ready to pour, or when it’s made and say ‘This tea will take three

minutes to brew,’ or whatever.”

Teapots also need to be chosen with care. Aluminium is out since it taints the tea. Porcelain, earthenware or silver plate are fine.

A good teapot should not only look elegant, but pour well. He takes the Parkroyal to task for the fact that its teapot lids lack holes to break the vacuum that occurs when pouring. “It’s the major cause of dribbles,” he says. The handles should also not get too hot, he points out. The Parkroyal’s china ones he finds “borderline.”

Nevertheless, it is only in such staunchly tea-drinking nations as Britain, Australia and New Zealand that teapots are in common use. “Without teabags, our industry would be in serious trouble,” Sam Twining says. Teabags, once regarded with suspicion as harbouring more tea dust than tea leaves, “have grown up and been accepted.” They now account for 60 to 70 per cent of the market.

The tea plant is first cousin to the camellia. Quite how the custom arose of drinking an infusion made from the leaves is not clear. Legends associate it with the Chinese Emperor, Shen Nung, 5000 years ago. By the eighth century, the scholar Lu Yu had written a treatise about it, the “Classic of Tea," and the plant had begun to spread along overland trade routes radiating from China. It also, spread to Japan, where it was used as an accompanying stimulant to a new school of religion — Zen Buddhism.

It was not until the sixteenth century that explorers, missionaries and merchants began bringing tea back to the West. The first shipment from China to Holland, then to England was made in the 1600 s. King Charles II accepted a parcel of “thea” with enthusiasm, helping establish it as a fashionable drink at court.

Sam Twining is the ninth generation of Twinings to be involved in the tea business. In 1706, Tom Twining started a coffee house in London’s Strand. He served quality China teas as a ploy to lure special customers. Tea was then a rare luxury

beverage, taxed at 100 per cent, the preserve of the gentry, who kept their tea caddies under lock and key. The shop started a trend and expanded. The firm still trades from the site, which now also houses a small museum.

The fashion for taking afternoon tea was started by the Duchess of Bedford in the eighteenth century. The duchess found the period between breakfast and dinner excessive and began taking tea in her boudoir at five o’clock. She invited her friends to join her, and soon afternoon tea moved into the drawing room. The duchess’s simple bread and butter sandwiches were replaced by sandwiches with exotic fillings, scones, crumpets and dainty cakes. Tea became an excuse to show off extravagant purchases of Chinese porcelain and Dresden tea sets.

The British tradition of adding milk to tea started out of respect for the fine porcelain being brought back by East India Com-

pany traders. Because people thought it was fragile, they feared it would break when exposed to the hot tea. They put a little cold milk in the cup first.

The tradition was further bolstered when the first tea arrived from India 150 years ago. “The tea from Assam is pungent and malty and undrinkable without milk,” says Sam Twining. “Milk enhances Indian tea and pulls the flavour through.”

It was thanks to the lobbying of Richard Twining that tea became an affordable drink of the masses. In 1784, while chairman of the Dealers of Tea, he persuaded the Prime Minister, William Pitt, to reduce the taxes

on tea. Sales increased almost 200 per cent in a year. Interest in tea is higher now than at any time since the late 1800 s, says Sam Twining, and the firm now exports to more than 90 countries. He started at the bottom, as a “pot boy,” weighing samples for the tea tasters, writing down their comments and valuations — to the nearest farthing, in those days. He eventually became a tea taster himself, a highly skilled job, he says. The company deals in 144 blends of tea from various parts of the world. Buying the tea is one skill, blending it is another. Each week, the company’s seven tasters go through hundreds of samples from all the big tea markets, tasting and valuing and instructing their brokers what to buy. When the bulk shipment arrives, it has to be tasted against the samples. “Because tea is not a crop — it’s the living leaf of a plant, not a fruit — it varies in quality from day to day and week to week. The taster has to blend each week a blend that is as good as the week before so that it always looks and tastes the same. There may be 20 to 40 different teas in one blend, selected for taste, colour and bouquet — it’s very complicated.”

In their definitive “The Book of Coffee and Tea,” Joel, David and Karl Schapira describe the tea taster’s task.

The taster first notes the appearance of the dry leaf: its colour, size, twist and smell. A well-made black tea will generally appear small, hard, wellrolled and uniform. Well-twisted leaf denotes a good wither — important for the manufacturing process to have the desired effect.

Young tea will give when gently squeezed. Old tea will break or crumble in the hand and show dust.

The tea taster will next judge the colour, brightness and odour of the infusion and pay close attention to the development of the infused leaf. The “agony of the leaves” as they unfold tells him how well the tea has been made.

The taster inhales the steam as it rises out of the cup to determine the tea’s “nose.” He notes the rate of infusion and the evenness of colour. The liquor of a good, tea will have a bright, sparkling appearance. Finally, he “slurps” the infusion, sending a finely atomised spray of liquor against the palate and sending the aroma into the nasal passages. He sloshes the

liquor around his mouth to note its flavour, pungency and the thickness of the brew. He then spits it out. Sam Twining says that tea, like wine, varies according to the region in which it is grown, the altitude, soil quality, amount of sun and rain and the pedigree or ancestry of each bush. The seasons in which it is picked, even the time of day and the skill of the picker, can affect the tea’s quality. Just as wines are grouped into reds, roses and whites, tea is divided into black, brown and green varieties.

Black tea is the one most commonly drunk in New Zealand. It is completely fermented before firing or heat drying. Brown tea, such as Oolong, is only partly fermented before firing. Green tea, the most ancient type and still the ceremonial tea of Japan, is not fermented at all.

During tea’s fermentation process, the leaves are spread on a flat cement or tiled surface in a cool, damp place. The leaves absorb oxygen, which causes a chemical change and turns them a bright copper colour, similar to a new penny. Fermentation is arrested during the firing process, which dries the leaf evenly and thoroughly. The fermented leaves are spread on trays in a large iron box, where they travel slowly from top to bottom while a continuous current of hot, dry air is forced into the box.

The degree to which the tea is fermented before firing has a significant effect on its flavour. Leaves from the same bush, separately processed to result in green, brown and black tea, would yield three distinctly different tasting beverages.

There are thousands of tea plantations all over the world, including such areas as East Africa, South America, and the U.S.S.R. Japan produces highquality green teas, but the finest teas come from China, India and Ceylon, just as they did in the early days of the British Empire when tea opened the Asiatic trade routes.

Amount of

caffeine

varies

5000-year history

Skill needed

for tea

tasting

Fermentation

affects

flavour