Last week, I took a short break in Wayanad. Tea was part of the plan but I chose to stay on a coffee estate. The estate was not directly involved in running the hospitality wing of the business but surrounded as we were by acres of coffee, I was keen to taste a local Robusta or even some of that famed monsooned Malabar. I was both disappointed and flabbergasted to find Nescafe and Bru as the dominant coffee options and an unknown brand of tea bag claiming to be Assam tea.
Wayanad has no shortage of coffee and tea estates and one would imagine these teas and coffees to be profusely available, and proudly served. It got me thinking, once again, about the missed opportunity to market our teas and coffees, and the seeming lack of pride in what we can make.
Several years ago, when my interest in tea was just growing, I’d decided that I liked a leafy Assam. My husband was travelling to rural Assam and I was eager to get my hands on the real deal. He could see the tea estates but the shops he stopped at said they only sold CTC, which is what they drank. Not orthodox, not the finest leafy grades. I remember being surprised that so close to a tea estate, one was hardpressed to buy its best teas. Of course, I wisened over time—the best teas left (were exported?), we took what was affordable.
We produce such flavourful teas, with a legacy to give it heft. But why is it that we shy away from showing off our produce at home. In Dibrugarh earlier this year, I kept my eyes peeled for signs of tea promotion—it is after all touted as the tea capital of India. There was nothing to note.
I get that we started tea production to supply the British, and it has for long been an export commodity. We developed a culture built around the cheaper variants. But today there is a greater disposable income, there an interest in provenance and willingness to pay higher for a product with a story. That ought to have translated into a large-scale campaign to befriend the Indian consumer, inviting them to explore and embrace our teas. Instead, we remain an industry that saves its best for others.
The only real effort I have seen is by producers who have taken it on themselves to change this. Darjeeling, perhaps, is the one district where because its tea is such a strong symbol of the region, it is part of the tourist bucket list. But elsewhere? I struggle to recall where I have easily accessed a locally made premium tea. In Munnar, the Kanan Devan Hills Plantation Ltd has set up the Ripple Tea Houses. In the Nilgiris, Tranquilitea offers a gourmet tea experience, private but befitting its teas. In Kangra Valley, Wah Tea Estate houses a cafe within the estate—one can count on ones hand such examples. But travel to any of our tea regions seeking to sample our best and it will be a treasure hunt, with no promise of reward.
A lot more effort is being made in the cities. But if you were to travel where tea is grown, it shouldn’t be too much to ask to try its famed produce. It doesn't need to be presented as a fine tasting experience but neither one labelled blandly either; all we want to see is a proudly made and served cup of tea. What better souvenir can there be.
Aravinda Anantharaman (@AravindaAnanth1) is a tea drinker, writer and editor.