Ever since I was old enough to actually appreciate hot “adult” beverages, I preferred tea to coffee. In fact, there’s only one coffee drink I really like. It’s a cappuccino with cinnamon and honey that I was introduced to at my favorite West Side writing cafe as a cafe con miel, but I’ve since understood is easier to explain to baristas just as “cappuccino with honey and cinnamon at the bottom.”

I’m drinking that coffee drink right now at Taborspace- the cozy social hall of a church on Mount Tabor where the base of the bell tower was rented out to a series of cafe and fast-eats ventures. Most recently, and popularly, it became the third satellite location of the cafe I worked at nearly a decade ago. I talked briefly with the new faces about the old faces (and recipes, and wall notes, and procedures most likely) still around the main kitchen that used to be my world. Then I took my scone and Only Coffee Drink I Actually Like into the sunny, raftered, cozy hall with Christian-themed stained glass windows that only adds to the vibes.

Cozy vibes and coffee.
I want to believe that’s what a lot of folks in the winery recognize me for besides being the pastry chef. When other people are loud or boisterous, I’m often quietly plugging away at a recipe until I have something for people to try, something goes wrong, or I feel a little goofy myself.

I’m also the one that almost always makes the coffee in the morning. Part of that is because I’m one of the first people in, but folks are surprised when I tell them I almost never drink the stuff. When they ask why I make coffee I never drink- and go to the bother of trying to do it well– I tell them simply “It starts their day off better, which them happier, which makes my day easier.”

That’s 100% true, by the way. Just a little semi-altruistic act that makes my day a little easier by making everyone who comes in start in a little better mood. I get my reward in better vibes in the building.

Except… I was like this even before I came to the winery. Before I came to Portland. Before I even thought of being a baker… and the medium was always coffee or tea.

Back when I was in high school, I knew how good a cup of tea could be and I’d bring a thermos to school so I could give classmates swigs when they were feeling off. If you’re wondering about the vision of a Jewish kid passing around a thermos at an urban high school early in the morning, so were the teachers and security guards.

College saw me turn into my friend groups “tea shaman”- my roommates and I had built up a collection. Friends of ours who needed to focus but still sleep later or were feeling off or congested -or were even just lonely- would knock on the door and ask what we could fix them. We gave them a cup, a chair, and I eventually started learning to make snacks for them. That, folks, is what we call “foreshadowing.”

After college, in apartments and houses I shared with others, I kept a tea collection and several teapots just for hosting others. I even got an old school stovetop glass percolator to make the occasional cup of coffee for guests. My older sister, an experience barista with Very Strong Opinions on coffee, helped me pick out a kind most people would like at told me how to store it.

Why? Why tea specifically?
Part of the reason is that I was and remain a huge fucking nerd. Making tea for people felt like I was crafting potions for them. Potions of wakefulness, potions of soothing and healing, of indigestion, of emotional stability- it was a simple kind of magic I could do on my friends. I liked being their “tea shaman.”

It was also nice to have friends. To have a role, to feel needed and useful and my existence making others lives easier.

My tea consumption has gone down a lot in recent years. Between the discovery of energy drinks, rebuilding a friend group in Oregon, and having a space too small to really host people, my “tea shaman” energy emptied itself in my career in pastry. Instead of pots of steaming brews, I’ve switched to whipping up cookies and sweets- the alchemy of sugar and yeast.

I still make the coffee every morning though, because it’s an easy way to tell people “someone here gives a shit about how you start your day.” Recently, some of the Old Magic came through when I made a preserve of honey, ginger, lemon, and thyme. A 24-hour bug ripped its way through the kitchen, and people came in afterwards “well enough to work” but still rough.

The jam showed up next to the coffee machine with instructions to mix some with tea water, and I’m trying to cut down my caffeine intake again. Watching people sip the jam mixture, sigh in relief at the urn full of hot coffee, and my own mug full of Irish Breakfast (black as sin, thanks) gave me that old warm feeling again- usefulness, agency in others experiences, skill and knowledge put to communal good.

“Cozy wizard vibes” is something I’ll happily live with.

Stay Classy,

P.S. If you want a basic potion that’ll keep you functioning through flu season, here’s the one I based the jam on! It came from my buddy Nick’s Honduran former boss when he was coming down with a flu but simply could not call out the next day. His boss whipped up this mixture in a quart container, told him to pound it when he got home, and show up on time the next morning. Nick says he woke up the next morning feeling like a million bucks.

Ingredients

• 3 Lemons (preferably organic)
• A piece of ginger about the size of your thumb
• A fistful of fresh thyme
• Honey, to taste

Instructions

Remove any stickers from the lemons and chop them up- seeds, pith, peel, and all- and put them in a saucepan. Do the same with the ginger root and the thyme- skin, stems and all.

Cover everything with water, and bring to a boil. As soon as it comes to a boil, remove from the heat and let steep for 30 minutes. Strain, add honey to taste (it will be bitter) and drink the entire thing.

Chanting over the boiling pot is optional, but definitely fun if you make this for someone else.