Tea in “the old Empire” means either a meal or a beverage, and it’s not confusing to the indigenous. However when a visitor is invited to “tea”, you never know what you’re going to get.

In the American South, there are two types of tea: Sweet Tea and Unsweetened Tea, both of which are poured over copious amounts of ice — which the British never seem to fathom.

However, I’m distressed to announce that in my travels I have encountered those snobbish Chai shops in Mexico where there are 8,000 varieties of tea – many of which taste nothing like ‘tea’. When snobbish tea is even available in Guadalajara, you know that the battle has been lost.

i’m a simple American: i like my cup of coffee with the grounds still at the bottom, my green tea only as an ice-cream flavor, and when i hear “can i borrow a cup of sugar?”, i know a porno is about to start…

Well, Jules, you’ve incited me to look up this old Benny Hill gag. OK, it’s silly, but it was your incitement that made me do it! You’re so right about cream in tea. Ugh! But honey instead of sugar is fine if you’ve got a cold. Long liveth the honey bee and all that cometh out of its arse!

Juliette, I admire your writing. It doesn’t matter if it is a story or well, I’ll call this an argument for lack of a better word. You know, like a lawyer argues his case in court.

This is logical, interesting and the humor fits perfectly. I love this line – “Whaaaa? Well of course I want bloody hot tea. I have to specify this?”

I’ve no idea how English tea tastes but will readily admit you are the experts in the field. I make it by the pitcher and put lots of sugar in it and nothing else. I like it best before it goes into the fridge where it stays until snack time or meal time.

There’s a mathematical equation whereby the complexity of a coffee order is in direct correlation to the size of the douche bag ordering it. Fact.

For longer than I care to admit, I thought a tea egg was a marital aid.

I like a stiff cup of tea right around 2:00. It makes me feel all fancy and whatnot.

I could drink tea till the cows come home… and, as I don’t have any cows, that’s a bloody long time.

Tetley or PG… splash and a half of semi skimmed… no sugar… perfect!

Oh, and not too strong: too much tannin is bad for you – so said Grandpa Potts (Lionel Jefferies in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, so it must be true).

I had so many witty thoughts I wanted to write here. Then I hit the part where you said “I’m certain we invented this language” and I busted out laughing and forgot everything I was going to say.

Everything you’ve said here, plus a few other reasons, is why I drink my coffee black. And my tea the same way, sans sugar or creamer/milk/cow juice. It’s just simpler and I can avoid talking to baristas who want to yell at me for taking photos and various other stupid rules I’m convinced they make up as they go along out of boredom.

I particularly like the Urban dictionary definition of Barista: Pretentious sounding word used by dejected art history and drama majors that describes their employment in order to make themselves feel better about serving coffee.
I nearly choked on my cappafrappamochchinolatte when I read that.

I used to drive lorries, and you’re right about greasy spoons. Road-side burger vans are just the same, the only choice you have is whether you have a burger or a sausage with it. Motorway service stations a different matter, you get all the choice under the sun, but it makes little difference as they all taste the same anyway.

Juliette, I admire your bravery. Tea has always been a major source of strife; those irate Bostonians weren’t throwing Frappucinos in the harbor, after all. Personally, I’ve always done my best to just drink what I like, and duck under the table when things get vicious. I will admit, though: I have always, until very recently, been very firm in my opinion that others can drink what they like, but I will take my tea cold, sweet, and without ice. Unless I’m thirsty, in which case I will drink whatever is in front of me, and do my best to hide my grimace.

To show how relative these things are, though: my brother mocked me for the majority of my life for the “hummingbird food” that I drank, yet I have served a glass to people before, only to have them remark: “Oh, no, I wanted SWEET tea.” There is no accounting for taste.

spoken like a true Brit – you are sooo right re poncy coffe shops; actually I saw a report re French chefs not wanting people to take pics of their food because it constituted ‘food porn’ which I have to confess I thought was something else.

Juju I hate spin with a passion. The coffee shop central to your post has elevated spin to a new bastion of the ridiculous. To this day I order small, medium, or large. “Did you say ‘Tall’?” No-I believe I said small! Figure it out!!! Oh, and by the way, our coffee shop is now introducing a new size: “Trenta” For all us Americans who need at 30 oz in each drink!!!

Now Jules, picture this: You are walking across a bridge over the Potomac in the Heat of August. You have literally turned to butter. You heard your shoes frying on the pavement ( I know I did). If I would have offered you an ice tea would you have had a swig? 😉

Trenta? That’s like “Please, I’d like to induce a heart attack!” It’s always fascinated me how BIG the coca cola cups are too. Like buckets. How can anyone drink this much pop?

Don’t be ridiculous, Dean! I would have demanded several white wine spritzers!

I tell you what Miss JellyBobble, I didn’t know cold tea existed until a couple of years ago when I was preparing to post myself to Boston, Massachusetts and did some digging around on American Culture.

And an abomination that is… however mainstream it’s become.

Gosh, do people still buy into the hoax that is Lipton? ewww…

I say all this as I sip on my freshly made cuppa – which one? Well, all the originals here will know there’s only one kind with milk and sugar and nothing less than. All this variety is just posh tosh.

Hell Miss doodlebug 🙂 A woman after my own heart: Classy, a connoisseur, refined and smart. As all proper tea drinkers are, innit.

I once asked for coffee at Starbucks and was told they didn’t have any!
Rookie . . .

We’ll that just made me laugh my head off!

Really, Jules… all I’m asking for is a Black Lipton Marocchino Miel Mélange de Olla Britainique. I don’t see the problem. But it had better be hot. I used to drink Cafe Blue Zorro Decaf Doppio. You may have heard of it. But that was a bit over the top, like my Fiat Punto.

Ha ha! I never had you down as a pretentious zorro doppio, Blue. Need to whip that highfaluting nonsense right out of you 😉

Hilarious, as always, love! Please don’t kill me, but I used to hate tea. But I am slowly growing to like it, and someday, you and I should have a cuppa together. At one of those pretentious bars. And we’ll buy some cakes and take pictures of them before throwing them at baristas.