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A Sip of Ritual

Black Sesame Soy Milk Hojicha Latte

  • Words & Photography / Jo

吃罷一份慢煮三文魚伴蕎麥麵,黑芝麻豆乳焙茶正好送來了。淡灰色泡沫中央輕蕩着一個簡單的白色心型拉花,安住於陶杯近乎水泥的釉色和咖啡室的幽暗之中。為免燙嘴,也希望保持那純粹的心,我慢慢呷一口。溫度剛剛好,甜度剛剛好。杯身比一般水杯窄,形態筆直修長,若以手握着,手掌能以舒適的弧度圈起大半個杯子。由杯緣延伸至杯底,微微彎出一把細長手柄,套入四隻手指,姆指在外,弧度剛好,可以輕鬆拿起盛着飲品的杯子,喝着,雙唇間感受到杯身厚度細薄中見圓潤,與焙茶豆乳的豐盈口感好匹配。這一切的剛剛好,加起來讓人感到好舒心撫慰。朋友與我點了同一杯飲品,兩人就靜靜的喝着,耳邊的人聲漸遠去,室內好像更見幽玄。

記得一次姨姨帶着還小的我去吃下午茶,點餐後,侍應問她喝甚麼,她說要一杯熱的黑咖啡,麻煩他餐後才送上咖啡。「咖啡一定要夠熱。」侍應離開後,她漫不經心的說。我想姨姨喜歡喝很熱的黑咖啡吧。餐後,她一邊吹着白煙直冒的黑咖啡,一邊呷着杯中物,每喝一口,她便好像舒心一 點,眉頭又好像鬆了一點。那是我初次知道飯後一杯「剛剛好」的茶或啡於某些人的意義不在於口腹之慾,而能夠理解當中的感受,便是後來的事。

「剛剛好」的定義是因人而異吧,例如姨姨喜歡近乎沸點的濃黑咖啡、某朋友不分冬夏都喝冰凍如霜的檸檬茶,而我則喜歡溫度介乎燙嘴與不燙嘴之間的茶,平常晚飯後愛喝不加糖奶而稍濃的伯爵茶,若吃飯時淺酌,飯後則喝偏熱的黑咖啡或帶煙燻味的黑茶。有次在某酒店吃印度菜,近乎每道菜都很精彩。吃過甜品,侍應為每人送上印度香料奶茶。「啊,涼了。」喝一口後,朋友與我幾乎同時說出。不溫不凍的奶茶,最後竟然成為我對那餐廳最深刻的印象,有點可惜。

早上喝的咖啡與晚飯喝的茶有分別嗎?我想,早上喝的是習慣和需要,晚飯後喝的大概是一份儀式感。那份儀式感可以是喝一盞茶、吸一枝煙、點一線香或甚至晚上關燈那瞬間的「咔嚓」一聲,恆常又熟悉,藉以為引子,收起思緒,告訴自己這天完結了,現在可以喝一口不為工作、生活或生理需要的茶。「儀式」本源自宗教或傳統,在一組既定程序、文本和行為之中與神或祖先連結,又或逹至某些神聖目的和表達感恩。「儀式感」與宗教無關,也許是現代人精神無可依靠下為自己衍生出的近乎宗教的信仰的日常習慣,重複、沒偶然,像錨,藉此安撫心靈,與宗教儀式殊途同歸。

晚飯後喝一杯剛剛好的茶,這儀式感讓人在此時、此刻、此地,在念頭與念頭之間,多停留一會、再一會兒,然後,相信外在世界再紛亂,人仍然可以定下神來,在自己生活裡掌握簡單的幸福與安定。

Right after I finished the sous vide salmon and soba noodle, the waiteress brought the black sesame soy milk hojicha latte I ordered. In the middle of a pond of light grey foam floated a simple white heart. The heart sat in the ceramic mug of concrete colour and dim café space, quietly. I sipped gently to avoid getting burnt and ruining the pure heart. The temperature was just right. The sweetness was just right. Narrower than usual, the mug was slender so that you could comfortably hold the curve of it in your palm. Slightly arched at the middle, the mug handle ran from the rim all the way to the bottom. Slipped in four fingers while having the thumb rested on the arch, you could lift the mug from the table effortlessly to drink and felt the delicate yet round mouthfeel of the ceramic rim, complementing the creamy body of the latte. Everything came just right, adding up to a soothing satisfaction. My friend ordered the same beverage as mine. We drank without exchanging words. The words uttered by others seemed moving more distant, and the interior muted.

I remember one time that my aunt brought me for an afternoon tea when I was little. When the waitress asked what she would like to drink, she replied that she wanted a cup of hot black coffee and asked the waitress to serve it after we were done with the food. “Coffee has to be hot enough.” She, obliviously, said after the waitress left. I bet she enjoyed her black coffee very hot. We finished our food. She blew on the steamy hot coffee and sipped it. After every sip, she looked more relaxed and had more space between her knitted brows. That was the first time I knew a cuppa or coffee – being just right to the person – meant well beyond the desire for the palate. I could understand the meaning of it years later.

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Being “just right” is personal. For instance, my aunt likes her strong black coffee boiling hot, while a friend of mine enjoys brain-freeze iced lemon tea regardless of seasons. And me, I like my tea, without sugar and milk, somewhere between being drinkable and undrinkable hot. For day-to-day, I enjoy a slightly strong Earl Grey tea after dinner. If I have a little drink at dinner, I will gravitate toward a cup of rather hot black coffee or smoky black tea after a meal. One time I was dining at an Indian restaurant at a hotel where the food was so spectacular that one could hardly pick on it. After dessert, the waiter brought every one of us a cup of masala chai. “Ah, it’s gone cool.” My friend and I said it almost in synchronicity. It is a pity that the impression of the not-so-warm chai has overridden that of the delicious food.

Is there any difference between the morning coffee and night cuppa? I guess, what is drunk in the morning is out of habit and necessity, and what is drunk at night after a meal is more for the sense of ritual. That sense of ritual can be the act of drinking a cup of tea, smoking a cigarette, burning an incense or even listening to that “click” sound when you switch off the light. Routine and familiar, the daily ritual is a button to turn off your mind, telling you that the day is over, and you can drink a cup of tea that is not brewed for work, for getting by or for physical needs. A ritual is a set of innate activities related to religions or traditions where designated sequence, texts and acts are involved so as to create a bond with God or ancestors, or even attaining a certain sacred purpose or showing gratitude. A sense of ritual is nothing religious but, perhaps, a rite people nowadays coin to anchor their dispersed mind, close enough to a religion in a loose sense. These daily routines are repetitive, expected and nothing unordinary, which soothes the mind, the same goal of a religious ritual.

Having a cup of tea that feels just right after a meal creates a sense of ritual to keep one in the moment, here and now. It allows one to stay longer between thoughts, and a little longer. And then, in your quiet mind, you feel in control of simple happiness and peace in your own life despite the unsettling world.

黑芝麻豆乳焙茶

材料:
黑芝麻 6克
玄米焙茶 6克(普通焙茶亦可)
沸水 100毫升
無糖日本豆乳 100毫升
三溫糖 半茶匙,按口味加減

做法:

  1. 茶葉放入沸水中,泡 5 分鐘後,隔去茶葉備用。
  2. 黑芝麻白鑊烘炒至散發香氣。
  3. 將黑芝麻磨研成膏狀後,加入焙茶中,再加入糖,以電動打奶器拌勻
  4. 豆乳煮熱,沸騰前關火,倒入乾淨的杯中,以電動打奶器打至起泡。
  5. 將豆乳倒入黑芝麻焙茶裏。

Black Sesame Soy Milk Hojicha Latte

Ingredients:
Black sesame seeds 6g
Genmai hojicha 6g (Plain hojicha will do too)
Water 100ml
Unsweetened Japanese soy milk 100ml
Soft light brown sugar ½ teaspoon / to taste

Steps:

  1. Steep the tea in boiling water for 5 minutes. Drain the tea leaves and set aside.
  2. Toast the black sesame seeds in a grease-free pan till fragrant.
  3. Grind the sesame seeds into paste in mortar and pestle. Add the paste and sugar into the tea. Blend well with a milk frother.
  4. Bring the soy milk to just under a boil. Pour the soy milk into a clean pitcher, froth it up with a milk frother.
  5. Pour the soy milk into the black sesame hojicha. Ready to serve.

Jo Liu

It’s raining outside, crisp and bleak. Three chubby sparrows took shelter on my balcony and I gave them the baguette bits left on my breakfast plate but they flew away. I stayed in, played Damien Rice on vinyl and made apple crumble. Repeat.

Instagram: foodialoguehk

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