Sunday, February 22, 2009
A Delicious Cup of Monkey Picked Tea
After a whirl-wind day out here in Kansas City (which I will write about later, when I'm home) I woke up in my old bedroom. It was weird. It was like the end of the Bob Newhart show, where Bob wakes up and his SECOND show was really just a dream that the Bob character on the original Bob Newhart show had.
Yeah, that was really complicated...but that's how my life felt this morning. I woke up, alone--in my old bedroom in KC and I thought, "My God, was all that St. Louis shit a dream?"
No, it wasn't. At least, I hope it wasn't (not all of it, anyway). What the hell was the point of this post? I'm still a bit groggy from last night. I got home at 11:30 after hanging out with Murph and I did a little more drinkin' (and I watched MY COUSIN VINNY which was on TV, that's a great fucking movie by the way).
Oh yeah, Monkey Picked Tea.
So I got up and ate breakfast with the family. Now I'm drinking my first cup of tea that WAS PICKED BY MONKEYS. Brenda bought it for me, I forget why...I think I was a Christma-Channnakkaua present of some variety (though I got it this week). The tea is good, very tasty and aromatic. Plus monkeys touched it, so you know it's good.
You should come and try it.
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4 comments:
How do they know that monkeys pick it? Do they just ratttle the bushes or something and the tea leaves rain down?
I find myself wondering if that tea is akin to the very specialized coffee that Jack Nicholson's character drinks in The Bucket List. Turns out the coffee had been chewed by monkeys or some other creature, crapped out and the fecal aftermath was what formed the coffee.
In other words, it literally tastes like shit.
Good night for beer last night. We'll have to go over to Terri's and hit Keith's frugal keg of beer. :)
Respects,
Murph
On the Outer Marches
The package says that this remote group in China have used monkeys for centuries to climb up high and pick tea leaves from high mountain ledges.
And no, the tea is not eaten...though there is a coffee that is consumed by a weasel-thing in South America that is later (much later) sold as high-end coffee product.
My mother and I actually discussed this while drinking the tea.
I would say we should go and hit Keith's keg, but I know how necessary beer is for a man...and I'd hate to "tap" his meager supply.
Hey, I'll tell Keith you're coming and I'll have a couple with you.
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