Subir Roy: Tea, coffee and me

OFFBEAT

If there is anything I have over the years liked more than the cup that inebriates, and that's saying a lot, it is the cup that cheers. This came out best when in my bachelor days I would land up at a friend's place a bit early in the evening, not long after the sun had gone down. My friend would promptly get busy pouring out the good stuff, not wanting to waste the boon of the additional hour.

But I would surprise him by saying: first things first, let's have a good cup of tea. Then turning to my friend's wife I would clarify: not a cup of good tea but a good cup of tea. This would invariably bring forth from her the mild protest: why do you have to make me prepare the tea myself and not leave it to the maid.

The journey into tea has traversed many geographies. The summit is, of course, Darjeeling, but man cannot live at the summit round the year. Full-bodied and robust Assam has always been a down-to-earth friend and I have met with many surprises, nearly all of them pleasant, by mixing the two in different proportions.

On shifting to Delhi and making driving holidays an addiction, I have also discovered the pleasures of the classical north Indian masala chai of the dhabas in which the tea self-effacingly recedes into the background, being left to dictate only the colour and the undertaste. The pride of place in dictating the overriding flavour goes to the ginger and cardamom and the body is provided by the almost overbearingly rich full cream milk.

So it was until I moved to the south and then discovered that there was more to coffee than the obnoxious instant stuff that I had always steered clear of. Running into the real coffee a bit late in life is a bit like meeting another interesting woman just when you thought life had played out all that it had to offer and the time left was for savouring the known flavours.

You have to be strong to take on fresh aromatic coffee filtered the south Indian way. It can kill your appetite for dinner, ruin your night's sleep or leave you bowled over and asking for more. Getting to know a neighbourhood for me now is not complete without locating the best Udupi or Darshini eatery that serves coffee as authentic as the sambar with the idli.

On realising what I had been missing out, I have now also located the underplayed shop in the neighbourhood that grinds right before you and sells the most aromatic allurement you can imagine. Over time I have become familiar with grades with esoteric names like pberry and plantation A. Our home now has, like any other decent home in the south, a stock of the pre-made coffee concentrate from which a cup that challenges can be made in a jiffy "" as long as it takes to heat the milk.

Bangalore, in particular, has more in coffee to offer than just good wholesome south Indian variety. In keeping with its cosmopolitan nature, it has sprouted any number of Cafe Coffee Day lounges that have overtaken Barista in sheer numbers. At these, you can get a wee taste of the European cafe culture, mixed with the lifestyle of the young Indian hep and her meaningless loud music. The standard cappuccino is as good as it goes in most places and if you want to fight back lethargy you can go for a small shot of black is beautiful espresso.

So here I am, a life-long tea addict, having to make room for coffee "" a new dark flame which is aromatic, robust and can even swing in the right locations.