The Joy of Waiting: What Tea Teaches Us That Coffee Never Could

If you’re like most Americans, you think tea comes from the grocery store.

A box. A shelf. A dusty aisle you walk past on the way to coffee.

What you don’t see is that most of that tea has already lived an entire life before it ever gets to you.

Tea is typically harvested only two to three times per year in what are called flushes. After harvest, it is processed, dried, sorted, packed, exported, imported, warehoused, distributed, and finally shelved.

By the time you bring it home, those leaves can easily be 12–18 months past harvest date.

And yet tea is the second most consumed beverage in the world after water.

But not in America.

Here, the order is:

1. Bottled Water

2. Soda

3. Coffee

4. Tea

Why?

Because coffee gives you something immediately.

Tea asks you to wait.

Americans Have a Complicated History With Tea

Our cultural relationship with tea quite literally went into the harbor at the Boston Tea Party.

And whether symbolic or not, we replaced tea with something faster, louder, and more stimulating: coffee.

Coffee rewards urgency.

Tea rewards patience.

Coffee fits a multitasking life.

Tea requires you to pause long enough to notice the water heating.

That pause is where the magic is. And it’s exactly what most people have lost tolerance for.

The Lost Skill of Waiting

Most people I know are so overloaded with multitasking that silence is almost intolerable.

After dinner, when the kitchen is dirty and the job of washing is the last thing I want to do, I boil water and build my own herbal blend. As I am doing the dishes my tisane brews. And I trick my brain by doing the dishes I have productively waited for my tea to brew.  

That five-minute ritual keeps one part of my day from becoming a chore.

Something to look forward to. Done for myself that is about my needs. Waiting can sometimes feel great.

Tea Is Subtle. And That’s the Point.

Compared to coffee, tea is quieter in flavor, sensation, and effect.

You must pay attention to notice it.

And that is the entire practice.

Tea doesn’t overwhelm you.

It invites you.

Which is why it pairs so well with slowing down an overstimulated brain.

A Modern Bridge: Sparkling Tea

Lately, I’ve been reaching for something new that I genuinely hope takes off in America: sparkling tea.

It carries the complexity and nuance of tea, but with the celebratory feel and immediacy people associate with sparkling beverages.

It’s tea for people who think they don’t have time for tea.

And it’s a brilliant gateway back into noticing flavor, aroma, and sensation without rushing.

Why This Brand Fits This Moment So Well

Susurrus — a women-owned company — describes their sparkling tea with such precision that I found myself wanting to quote their words directly. They captured the flavor perfectly.

But even more fitting is their name.

Susurrus means a soft whispering or rustling sound.

A sound you only hear when you are quiet enough to notice it.

There could not be a more appropriate brand for a post about listening, waiting, and paying attention.

Bringing Back Small Silent Joys

With all the noise in the world, it’s no wonder we can’t hear ourselves think.

Reintroducing slow, silent moments of joy into everyday life is not indulgent. It’s restorative.

Tea is not just a beverage. But a moment.

And that might be the most valuable thing in the cup.

Interested in learning more about how sparkling tea is made and why it tastes so layered?

Comment below. I’d love to explore it together.

What do Wine and Music have in Common?

What makes a good wine?

Balance. Harmony.

The fruit, the acidity, and the tannins working together—each present, none overpowering. You can sense when every element has a role, and no single voice is trying to dominate the room.

The easiest way to understand this is to stop thinking about wine—and start thinking about music.

Fruit is your lead vocal. It’s what you notice first, what draws you in. In young wines, it’s bright and fresh—berries, citrus, stone fruit. With time, those notes evolve into something deeper: dried fig, stewed plum, candied orange peel.

Acidity is the bassline. It’s not always the loudest at first, but it holds everything together. Without it, the wine feels flat, disjointed. With age, acidity often becomes more pronounced—cutting through the richness, carrying the rhythm forward.

Tannins are the instruments—the texture, the structure, the grip. They come from grape skins, seeds, and oak. In youth, they can feel sharp, even aggressive. But given time, they soften, integrating into the composition.

And just like music, you can tell when something is off.

You can hear when a singer is straining instead of singing. You can feel when an instrument falls slightly out of tune. Wine works the same way. A lack of balance is noticeable—even if you can’t immediately explain why.

But when it works, it really works.

A soft, restrained wine layered over deep structure. Or a bold, expressive wine lifted by bright acidity. Different styles, same outcome: harmony.

A great wine, like a great band, doesn’t rely on a single element. But all the elements coming together.

What Balance Really Means (Across the Glass, Cup, and Kettle)

Balance isn’t unique to wine—it’s the backbone of every beverage worth paying attention to.

In wine, we talk about fruit, acidity, and tannin. In coffee and tea, the language shifts slightly, but the principle remains the same. You’re still chasing balance—that point where nothing sticks out awkwardly, and everything works together.

Take wine first.

Fruit is the entry point. Acidity carries the wine across your palate. Tannins give it structure and length. When one of those is out of proportion, you feel it immediately. Too much fruit without acidity? It feels flat, almost boring. Too much tannin without fruit? It might as well be a soft drink it goes down easy. It’s gone before you can enjoy it.

Now shift to coffee.

Here, the structure becomes sweetness, acidity, and bitterness. A well-balanced cup doesn’t taste sharply sour or aggressively bitter. Instead, the acidity lifts—think citrus or apple—while the fruiting note rounds it out, and the bitterness adds depth rather than dominance.

And then there’s tea.

Tea brings in body, aroma, and astringency. That drying sensation—similar to tannin in wine—can either enhance the flavor into elegance or overpower the main flavor depending on how it’s extracted. Steep it too long, and the balance tips. Brew it just right, and it becomes layered, almost effortless to drink.

Different ingredients. Different processes. Same goal.

You’re not just tasting flavors—you’re sensing how they relate to each other. That’s what makes something feel complete.

And once you recognize it, you start to notice it everywhere.

Taste the Place: What Terroir Really Means

If balance is how a beverage sounds, then terroir is where that sound comes from.

At its simplest, terroir is the combination of soil, climate, and human decisions that shape how something tastes. It’s the reason the same grape, grown in two different places, produces two completely different wines.

In wine, terroir is everything.

A hillside vineyard with rocky soils and cool nights will produce wines with higher acidity and more tension. Move that same grape to a warmer, flatter site, and you’ll get riper fruit flavor. The winemaker guides the process—but they’re always working within the boundaries of what the land gives them.

Now step into coffee.

Altitude becomes the driving force. Higher elevations slow the ripening of coffee cherries, leading to brighter acidity and more defined flavors—often citrus, floral, or tea-like. Lower elevations tend to produce rounder, heavier profiles—chocolate, nut, earth. Then processing steps in: washed, natural, honey. Each environment sets up the flavor profile differently.

And then there’s tea.

Here, terroir gets even more precise. A tea grown on one mountain can taste entirely different from the same cultivar grown just a few miles away. Soil composition, mist, elevation, and even picking season all play a role. Spring harvests might be delicate and aromatic; later harvests deeper and more robust.

Across all three, the pattern holds.

These beverages are not just products—they’re translations of place.

And the craft lies in how clearly that place is expressed.

Craft vs. Commodity: Knowing the Difference

Not everything in your glass is created with the same intention.

There’s a difference between something made to scale and something made with care. And once you taste it, it’s hard to unsee.

In wine, commodity wines are built for consistency above all else. Large production, blended across regions, adjusted to hit the same flavor profile year after year. The goal is reliability—you know exactly what you’re getting every time you open the bottle.

This is quite challenging to repeat consistently but it follows more of a recipe type of winemaking.

Craft producers are playing a different game.

They’re working within the variation of each vintage—the heat, the rain, the unexpected swings.

One year might lean brighter, another richer. Instead of correcting those differences out, they interpret them. Great producers work within the constraints they are given. Most importantly they also have a focus on quality with more attention paid to the wine in general compared to large-scale producers.

That same divide shows up clearly in coffee.

Commodity coffee is often roasted dark to create uniformity. It smooths over inconsistencies, making origin harder to distinguish. What you taste is the roast, not the place.

Craft coffee—especially from smaller roasters—leans into origin. Lighter roasts, more transparency, more risk. A coffee from Ethiopia tastes unmistakably different from one grown in Colombia, and that distinction is the point.

And in tea, the gap can be even wider.

Mass-produced teas are blended for sameness—bag to bag, box to box. But small-batch teas, often single-origin, carry the fingerprint of where and how they were grown. The picking standard, the season, the handling—all of it shows up in the cup.

So why should you care?

Because consistency at scale is manufacturing.

Consistency under changing conditions—that’s craft.

Craft requires attention. It requires restraint. And most of all, it requires a willingness to work with what’s given, not override it.

When you support that kind of work, you’re not just buying a better-tasting product.

You’re choosing variability, personality, and a closer connection to the people and places behind what you’re drinking.

But What Makes a Producer Worth Following?

Anyone can make a good wine once.

A warm vintage, perfect conditions—that’s the equivalent of a one-hit wonder. It happens.

But great producers? They show up every year.

They face the difficult vintages—the heat spikes, the smoke, the rain at flowering—and still find a way to craft something worth drinking. That’s where skill lives.

Winemaking is not just preservation; it’s interpretation. The grower and the winemaker are handed a set of conditions they can’t control, and asked to turn it into something that can live for years.

That’s not luck. That’s craft.

Why We Keep Coming Back to It

At its core, wine is a collaboration between nature and human intent.

Sunlight, soil, water—transformed through decisions. When to pick. How to ferment. Whether to intervene, or step back.

This is what has drawn people to wine for centuries. Not just the end product, but the process. The tension between what is given and what is made.

Wine does something few things can.

It slows you down. It asks you to pay attention. It brings people together around a shared experience that evolves in the glass and in conversation.

Compared to most modern beverages, wine remains one of the clearest expressions of place and time. It begins in the ground, shaped by weather and season, and ends as something you can revisit years later.

That continuity—between nature, craft, and memory—is what makes it worth celebrating.

Not just drinking, but understanding.

Savoring the Sip: The Art of Undistracted Coffee Drinking, Me Time

Let’s talk about coffee. Not just any coffee, but that perfect, soul-soothing cup that warms your heart and wakes your senses. Imagine experiencing it in a way that makes every sip a tiny burst of bliss. The secret? Ditch the distractions. Roast is important. Aromatics are important. Look at small time roasters, who put the passion in the roast. Like this small-town Californian roaster Moschetti.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NWT0XTXqk4w

Now onto the ambiance of the experience:

Step 1: The Setup

First, find your sanctuary. It doesn’t need to be a fancy café—your kitchen table or a cozy corner of your living room works just fine. Make sure it’s a spot where you can sit comfortably without the allure of screens or the chaos of daily life.

Step 2: Brew Perfection

Prepare your coffee just the way you love it. Whether you’re a pour-over purist, a French press fanatic, or an espresso enthusiast, take the time to brew it right. Inhale deeply as the coffee brews, letting the rich aroma start to work its magic.

Step 3: Embrace the Moment

Here comes the hard part: leave your phone, email, and to-do list behind. This moment is about you and your coffee. Wrap your hands around your mug and feel the warmth seep into your fingers. Close your eyes for a second and transport yourself to a sun-drenched coffee field, where the beans were lovingly grown.

Step 4: Savor the First Sip

Take that first, glorious sip. Feel the heat, taste the complex layers of flavor, and let the coffee dance on your taste buds. This is your me time. Notice the subtle notes—maybe it’s a hint of chocolate, a whisper of berry, or a smooth, nutty finish.

Step 5: Be Present

Silent Coffee Moment

As you sip, let your mind wander but stay present with your coffee. Notice how the warmth travels down, spreading comfort. Hear the faint sounds around you, but don’t let them intrude. This is your time to just be.

Step 6: Reflect and Appreciate

Halfway through your cup, take a moment to appreciate the journey. The journey of the coffee beans from distant lands to your cup, and your own journey to finding a slice of peace in a busy day. Reflect on how this simple ritual of undistracted sipping brings a sense of calm and clarity.

Step 7: Finish with Gratitude

As you take the last sip, let gratitude wash over you. Enjoy your me time. For the coffee, for the moment, for the pause in the hustle. You’ve given yourself a precious gift: the gift of presence and pure enjoyment.

So, next time life gets overwhelming, remember that your coffee break can be more than just a caffeine fix. It can be a moment of pure, undistracted pleasure. Sip it slowly, savor it fully, and let it be your little oasis of joy in the chaos. Cheers to the art of savoring every sip!