The Moroccan teapot has found a home on my kitchen counter, where it makes me smile whenever I pass by. Oh, and it makes a superb pot of mint tea.
Saturdays are lazy days around here. Except when they’re not.
Yesterday morning there was a lot of commotion. Angus was going north, back to college, and B was flying with him. The house boomed with loud male voices, and the floors creaked and shuddered as behemoth duffle bags exploding with hockey gear and who knows what else were lugged down the stairs and out to the car.
Was it just a few minutes ago that he was a little blond boy running on the beach in Nantucket ? Suddenly there's a hole in my heart.
Anyway, Serendipity and I had a consolation lunch at Sandwhich. Somewhere between the Beet & Blue Salad (roasted beets, candied walnuts and English Stilton) and the Tuna Salad Sandwich (a cheeky misnomer since the main event is fresh loin of yellowfin tuna poached in white wine), my eye fell upon a dozen Moroccan teapots sitting on a shelf.
Silvery, curvaceous and with the jaunty air all Moroccan teapots possess—maybe it’s the whimsical top hat they wear—each one was just big enough for two small glasses of tea.
Lust was in my heart.
Moroccan teapots on the shelf at Sandwhich, home of Chapel Hill's most upscale sandwiches--and other delights, including lamb tagine with polenta and quince chutney.
If you’ve been to Morocco, you’ve certainly had the national drink: Berber whiskey, a.k.a. fragrant mint tea, served steaming hot, sweetened with sugar till a spoon will stand up in it. (It gets a touch of bitterness from a mysterious third ingredient: green gunpowder tea, so called because the leaf is rolled into round pellets.) Traditionally the tea is brewed in a fat-bellied pot with a long curved spout, then poured from a height of two to three feet directly into a small glass, creating a little froth and a lot of drama.
The pots are everywhere—I must have passed a dozen metal shops in the souks where new teapots hung in gleaming rows, just begging to be taken home. But somehow, between the coral necklace, the green silk shawl and the Safi bowls that jumped into my suitcase, I never got around to finding the teapot of my dreams.
So when Hich Elbetri, the tall, dark and handsome chef/co-owner of Sandwhich, stopped by our table—after sending over a bowl of irresistible French fries with spicy ketchup—I had to ask about the pots. “Oh, I brought them from Morocco,” he said. “I thought I’d serve tea at the restaurant, but—“ he shrugged. “I’ve got 15 or 20 more at home.”
Fifteen or 20! I couldn’t restrain myself. Really, at that moment, I would have given him every cent in my wallet for one of those gems.
Ahem. “If you ever want to, um, sell one—“ I stammered. And before I knew it, the most generous chef I know had picked up a silvery teapot—a simple, elegant one—and pressed it into my hands. “It’s yours,” Hich said. “Just big enough for you and your husband to have tea.”
And that is how the teapot came home. It resides, at least for now, on the kitchen counter where it makes me smile whenever it catches my eye. The pot reminds me of Morocco, of course, but also of a chef whose unexpected kindness turned a blue day into a happy one. Merci, Hich!
In case you missed it, here’s the recipe for Moroccan mint tea:
Moroccan Mint Tea
This recipe has been adapted for an 8-ounce metal teapot that can go directly over a gas flame. If you do not have such a pot, make the tea in a pan and serve it from the teapot of your choice.
Makes two 4-ounce glasses of tea
Ingredients:
2 teaspoons green gunpowder tea
8 ounces boiling water
1 tablespoon sugar (or to taste)
1 bunch fresh mint
Method:
1. In a metal teapot, pour 2 ounces of boiling water over the green tea. Pour off the water into a tea glass and reserve.
2. Pour another 2 ounces over the green tea, swish it and discard.
3. Pour the first glass of tea back into the pot. Add the sugar, the mint, and the rest of the boiling water. Let it steep for a few minutes, then return briefly to a boil.
4. Serve the sweet mint tea from the metal teapot, or from another teapot of your choice. Aerate the tea (and test your hand to eye coordination) by pouring it into the glasses from a height of 18 inches or more. Drink while it is still hot and steaming.
