The Culmination of All That is Elegant
I have been buying ever more ridiculous sounding tea recently. The first step on this strange path was at work where I noticed that a colleague preferred fruity herbal “infusions”. Normally this would send me running for the hills, leaving a post-it note behind with the word “Jeeee-sus” and a picture of a pair of rolling eyeballs written on it. But I was sick of the endless cycle of PG-Tips and rotten instant coffee, and was willing to be seduced. Now I buy variety packs of the stuff, although I am still embarrassed about exactly how to describe it to others.
“Hi, what are you drinking?”
“This? It’s an infusion.”
“Piss off, it smells.”
I have also decided to drink green tea. I do not remember why this was a good idea…whether it was a sudden and pathetic burst of aspirational shopping or just some watery-eyed stab at Being Healthy. I drank it with lemon at first, and now I have discovered an orange and lotus flower version…ye gods. Somewhere along the line I have sacrificed common sense for absurdity…lotus flower? Am I drinking things that live on lakes now? Or I am thinking of something else?
There is a fine line between genuine open-minded consumption and middle-class faffery, but until I find myself drinking something I don’t like and pretending that I do, I will consider myself in the Right.
Indeed. But today I completed the circle and bought a box of white tea based entirely on the fact I liked the box. I have never heard of white tea before, and the reasons for purchasing it are worrying.
Upon the box is written a stream of advertising consciousness, quoting nameless Chinese Emperors and puffing up its ability to “detoxify”. But what the hell? It tastes like it claims on the packet and it only takes a small mental leap to indulge my love of Deep and Meaningful atmospheres alluded to in my previous post…this time the clue is in the title of Swirling Mist White Tea. Nothing beats a good bit of bad weather in a foreign country for an instant hit of vaguely pretentious gratification. And the name is embellished in the windy bumf on the box and I am willing to swallow it all because I am shocked to find I really enjoy drinking the stuff. It is awash with smooth, subtle flavour and I endorse it heartily.
Some products go above and beyond their duty to entice the weary shopper. Sometimes throwing around fashionable phrases like low-carb doesn’t work… you need a cartoon picture of a man with his head on fire telling you that this chilli sauce is the hottest sauce known to man, as is the case with the charmingly titled Who Dares Burns sauce. But I refuse to take dietry advice from a dying cartoon character. Many chilli sauces claim to be hot but the claim is arbitrary and silly. Who Dares Burns does, indeed, turn out to be dog-kickingly hot, whereas Molten Lava chilli sauce from Bicks is little more than a slightly irritating tomato sauce. Meanwhile, Tabasco sauce makes a useful ingredient but a disappointing sauce, chiefly because of its vinegary taste.
Tabasco is a product that likes nothing better than to conjure up in buyer’s mind some kind of link with the soul of the American west, or whatever. Jack Daniels does exactly the same kind of thing by alluding to comfortable images of the old American south. And it works. Without the myth, the mental stimulation, the product seems ordinary. Yet we must not rule out quality…if the stuff was no good, we would buy something else, no matter how fancy the packaging.
Except…and this is an argument I am desperate not to even begin writing about right now…we buy shit from supermarkets over and over again that tastes of nothing and puts people out of business left, right and centre. The average tomato from your supermarket is so desperately sad…rubbery and tasteless and with an appearance that looks like a child’s idealised painting of the real thing…yet this is what we’re happy to buy.
And now we insert endless drones about convenience versus quality, price versus ethics, and blah ourselves stupid until hell freezes over. Just not today, eh?
“Hi, what are you drinking?”
“This? It’s an infusion.”
“Piss off, it smells.”
I have also decided to drink green tea. I do not remember why this was a good idea…whether it was a sudden and pathetic burst of aspirational shopping or just some watery-eyed stab at Being Healthy. I drank it with lemon at first, and now I have discovered an orange and lotus flower version…ye gods. Somewhere along the line I have sacrificed common sense for absurdity…lotus flower? Am I drinking things that live on lakes now? Or I am thinking of something else?
There is a fine line between genuine open-minded consumption and middle-class faffery, but until I find myself drinking something I don’t like and pretending that I do, I will consider myself in the Right.
Indeed. But today I completed the circle and bought a box of white tea based entirely on the fact I liked the box. I have never heard of white tea before, and the reasons for purchasing it are worrying.
Upon the box is written a stream of advertising consciousness, quoting nameless Chinese Emperors and puffing up its ability to “detoxify”. But what the hell? It tastes like it claims on the packet and it only takes a small mental leap to indulge my love of Deep and Meaningful atmospheres alluded to in my previous post…this time the clue is in the title of Swirling Mist White Tea. Nothing beats a good bit of bad weather in a foreign country for an instant hit of vaguely pretentious gratification. And the name is embellished in the windy bumf on the box and I am willing to swallow it all because I am shocked to find I really enjoy drinking the stuff. It is awash with smooth, subtle flavour and I endorse it heartily.
Some products go above and beyond their duty to entice the weary shopper. Sometimes throwing around fashionable phrases like low-carb doesn’t work… you need a cartoon picture of a man with his head on fire telling you that this chilli sauce is the hottest sauce known to man, as is the case with the charmingly titled Who Dares Burns sauce. But I refuse to take dietry advice from a dying cartoon character. Many chilli sauces claim to be hot but the claim is arbitrary and silly. Who Dares Burns does, indeed, turn out to be dog-kickingly hot, whereas Molten Lava chilli sauce from Bicks is little more than a slightly irritating tomato sauce. Meanwhile, Tabasco sauce makes a useful ingredient but a disappointing sauce, chiefly because of its vinegary taste.
Tabasco is a product that likes nothing better than to conjure up in buyer’s mind some kind of link with the soul of the American west, or whatever. Jack Daniels does exactly the same kind of thing by alluding to comfortable images of the old American south. And it works. Without the myth, the mental stimulation, the product seems ordinary. Yet we must not rule out quality…if the stuff was no good, we would buy something else, no matter how fancy the packaging.
Except…and this is an argument I am desperate not to even begin writing about right now…we buy shit from supermarkets over and over again that tastes of nothing and puts people out of business left, right and centre. The average tomato from your supermarket is so desperately sad…rubbery and tasteless and with an appearance that looks like a child’s idealised painting of the real thing…yet this is what we’re happy to buy.
And now we insert endless drones about convenience versus quality, price versus ethics, and blah ourselves stupid until hell freezes over. Just not today, eh?
posted by Jamie at 4:19 PM
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