Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Bubbles (My poems) This Afternoon

Come to my house for a warm cup of masala chai.
Not a powdered Starbucks mix,
but a tawny brew of foamy milk, water and
teas, harvested on the green hills of Ooty,
picked by women swathed in cotton saris.

I’ll lace it with a blend of spices
made from my mother’s recipes.
A gingery grind of
and other spices you didn’t
know could even be added to tea.

I’ll serve you in pastel Ikea mugs
on a Pflatzgraff tray.
It goes well with ginger snaps and
khari bisquits.
Editorial: I don't understand how Chai Latte got coined. It's so mismatched - Asian and Italian words to describe an American concoction.


your said...
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Anonymous said...

Your homemade chai tea looks delicious. I buy the much inferior tea bag kind. It's laced with articial flavors, and who knows what else type of chemicals. At the end of the day I might glow in the dark. A savings on the electricity bill. Are you envious? Probably not.

R said...

Oh I detest, loathe and abhor it when my beautiful masala chai is referred to simply as chai (as distinct from 'tea') or *cringe* 'chai-tea'. I just moved to Melbourne to study and if any tea specialist dares to refer to it as chai-tea, they lose ALL their credibility. Meanwhile I am trying to teach the rest of the Melbournians that chai is no different from tea... chai means tea... what they call chai or *cringe* chai-tea or *cringeshudderchoke* chai tea latte (blech) is in fact just plain old masala tea. And I make it better than they ever could, heh.