Finding a solution that addresses an issue is sweeter to me than a Thai iced tea. (It appears that there remains some poetic residue from the last post.) I speak of none other than solving the Payard Blend tea mystery.
Why the celebration? After all, it’s just tea right? Wrong as dust.
Call me tenacious. Call me a tea-leaf-obsessed zealot. Call me a organoleptic cha fiend who steeped one infusion too many.
Go ahead. Just be able to spell it, pronounce it, and then use it correctly in a sentence.
Before dismissing all as a waste of blogosphere, please consider how the palatine nerves intertwine and link the roofs of our mouths, our soft palates and our nasal cavities. These palatine nerves then route to the brain’s deep limbic system, where we store memories.
Memories I associate with the Payard Blend include:
> Lingering over an elegant, three-course afternoon tea complete with madeleines
> Celebrating life milestones, e.g. graduations, engagements, promotions
> Smiles and laughter sparked by enjoyable company and conversation
In other words, this black tea left an impression. Somehow an empty tin and a closed location failed to erase the memories from my mind.
Some New Yorkers empathized with my plight and said, “Forget about it. There’s other tea to drink.” Tell that to someone else’s deep limbic brain system, not mine. The memories refused to fade and my palate refused to give up hope.
The palate has spoken. So the search for Payard Blend (and closure) commenced.
Four years later, the Payard Blend returns. Merci, Chef François Payard et Messieurs Harney, merci beaucoup.
What’s that?! The packaging is different? Criticize only if your own personal packaging hasn’t changed during the same time span. If not, then perhaps it’s time for an update. Like tea tins, what’s on the inside is vastly more important than what’s on the outside.
After all this time, let’s not spoil the moment. It is not a time for words. Now it is time for tea, palate and memory to reunite.