Why I Chose Tea
My grandma’s mug was permanently stained the color of old wood. Every morning she’d dump in a heaping handful of Paochong leaves – no
measurements, no ceremony – and refill it with hot water all day long. That mug never left her side; to her, tea wasn’t an event, it was life.
Sometimes I’d sneak a sip. The flavour was always too strong, too herbal, too bitter for a child – but I loved it. It felt like a secret, something I wasn’t meant to understand yet but somehow did.
Years later, after exploring so many kinds of tea – roasted oolongs, aged puerh, Japanese cultivars – I found myself circling back to that same taste: Paochong. That soft, floral, slightly wild flavour still calms me in a way nothing else can. And only recently did I realise it’s the taste of home. Growing up, tea was never explained; it was just there – my grandma’s mug, my uncle’s teapot, those late-night gatherings in Maokong with my family. We’d sit on a balcony in the mountains under the stars, surrounded by crickets and the distant city lights. My uncle brewed tea
while the rest of us chatted and passed around snacks. We were never in a rush to leave.
Those nights made me feel safe; they taught me what belonging felt like. But time moves on. We all got older, busier. After my uncle passed
away, we stopped going back to the mountain. The gatherings faded, and for a while, so did tea. Until recently. When I finally decided to
dedicate myself to tea, it wasn’t strategic – it just felt right, like I was returning to something that had always been waiting for me. That’s why I believe so deeply in tea – not only as a drink but as a way of being. Tea holds memory. Tea makes space. Tea connects people without needing words. And once you spend real time with it, you start to notice things – subtle things – how water moves, how leaves open, how time feels slower in your hands.
Tea, for me, is a way to carry the feeling of home into the present. It gives comfort, it gives purpose, and even though my family no longer gathers the way we used to, every time I brew a pot, I feel like they’re right there with me. That’s the kind of tea I want to share.