Skip to main content

Tea & Demerara


I love tea. Not the way Jane (bff) loves tea but more so than the average Indian. I discovered something over Christmas this year, whilst grocery shopping for a list that called for this wonderful thing called Demerara Sugar, that escalates the pleasure to new heights.

What is it?

Natural brown sugar (like real sugar, not heroin) that tastes delicious. It has a wonderful way of combining itself with the other ingredients in what ever your making, to become part of the dish. So the dish is never just sweet, but sweet with the flavors that you've added to your..in this case tea. And to boot, it's healthier than your average refined white sugar.

For those of you who do share my obsession over tea, do try the following. It's yummy, especially with the weather these days.



Grocery List

Cinnamon- A 1/4 stick
Chocolate Tea (I got my packet from Ooty)- 2 tsp
Water- 2 cups
Milk- As you wish
Demerara Sugar- As you wish

To make:

1. Add cinnamon stick to the water give it a boil for a minute or so, and then add tea and sugar.

2. Filter and add milk/cream as desired.

The combo is delish, I did have some yesterday with a pinch of nutmeg added as well. If you do try this out, let me know what you think of it.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Celebrations

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 16 ; the sixteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . It was a hard ground that felt like sand paper. When he started his journey, it was the soles of his feet that were in contact with the ground, but now as he pulled himself closer to the station, it was his whole body. His elbows were scraped, bloody and fresh scab peeled bled out to leave a trail of red on the wicked hot dusty ground of pain and suffering. All around him slow moving bodies crawled towards the direction of hope, all along leaving patterns of blood, sweat, skin and pus. These bodies had seen civil wars, droughts, genocide and lived to tell a tale of a people who now belonged to a nation listed as one of the poorest countries in the world. This is now, but before the list, was a struggle of massive proportions, under reported and quietly hidden
26 comments
Read more

Escape

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 10 ; the tenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . The Temple Widow A narrow dirt path, generously peppered with tiny pebbles, tiny miniatures of their gargantuan ancestors, leads to a bridge. It hangs, rickety and old. Old but not well used, old like abandoned and not frequently used. The bridge hangs low over a small stream that slowly gurgles past, happy unlike those that visit the place. The bridge leads to a temple. It is not very big, only perhaps the size of a small hut and at the most the size of an average temple hall. The temple has no deity; the temple has no one corner that doesn’t look like the other. It is clean, well swept, and empty. It has no furniture, and excepting a series of well spaced out windows, the walls remains uninterrupted. She stumbles in, the lady. She is not very tal
30 comments
Read more

Time Travel

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 8 ; the eighth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . I haven't got the memory of a vedic tantric. Neither do I ever claim to remember all. All I know is what I know, question my memory if you want to. I don't ask you to remember, I don't ask you to believe. In fact, I'm not asking you for anything at all. It is your choice to be here, to read this. So no, I don't owe you a favor. I happened to chance upon a watch, on one of my travels. Turning the dials of such a watch, could transport you to the past, to the future, to any time. But time, my friend, is not how you think it is. It is not a straight line, and you cannot just by chance hop into the world of dinosaurs and wooden weapons. It is a series of transparencies, like films of clean sheets of paper laid on top of each other. You look from above
31 comments
Read more