Every aspect of the restaurant, from the decor, to the music, to the lighting, exuded calm. Shutting the door behind seemed to be a ward- forbidding the noise and pace of the city from proceeding any further.
The dining room sat about 20, and I was told to pick any seat I liked by a smiling young Japanese woman. As she turned to get menus for me, I heard her rehearsing her lines quietly. A new hire, obviously- trying hard to impress. She was doing well so far.
The furniture and decor was intriguing- a hodgepodge of Pan-Asian and cargo cult accents, with bamboo shelves, displayed tea, and teaware. Normally, such kitsch would strike me as exotica, appropriating cultural elements to titillate and excite.
The overwhelming calm of the place, however, let it come off as completely unpretentious. Everything felt like it was meant to be there, following some logical one could comprehend only on a visceral level.
I chose a low wooden stool at a four-top, with warmly polished wood and supported by a stenciled tea chest. Large windows flood the room with sun, and soft lighting shades it when the sun hides again.
The menu arrives. A veritable catalog of fine teas, of course- arranged by variety, with tasting notes. The food menu is much simpler, and as much of a well-curated hodgepodge as the room- light vegetarian/vegan fare based from India, China, Japan, Greece, and one or two offerings from Europe.
My tea selection is a no-brainer- the “Pine Smoked Black.” For food, however, the choice considerably lighter edamame and steamed vegetable potstickers to start, Indian paneer soon after.
The tea arrives first, of course. The room wraps around me like a warm blanket was the young waitress carefully pours my first cup from the small clay pot.
Pine Smoked Black is a lapsang souchong- a type of black tea that gets roasted over wood fires, in this case, pine boughs. The heady smoky aroma lingers in the tea, eliciting memories of hearths and campfires past. It reminds me of camping in the Pine Barrens with the Scouts- a warm fire, my hair and clothes rife with the smell of woodsmoke, and a sky full of stars between the towering pines and cedars.
A blissful memory for each cup.
My eyes wander as I sip my tea- there’s something else unusual about the place. In cafes in Portland, I’ve gotten used to the omnipresent click-clacking of typing while people work. You tune it out after a while, like white noise on a television set, or the hum of air conditioning.
No one was on a computer. I was the only one with my phone out. Tao of Tea has no Wifi, and few- if any- wall outlets in the dining room.
You are not supposed to be working here, or at least not staring at a screen.
Aw hell, I’ve missed the point. Screwed it up. I’m not supposed to be working on it right now. Enjoy the tea, get pictures quickly and quietly, then put it away. My phone feels like an albatross- hide it fast.
The food arrives. Simple, stark, and beautiful. The vegetable potstickers are warm and soft- almost too soft to grab with chopsticks. There’s no dipping sauce- that would be too complicated, it feels. The dumplings are dressed on the plate, garnished with red-orange goji berries and green onions. Perfectly decent little pillows of veggie- each one feels like having your mother hold your hand.
The edamame are blanched perfectly- a verdant green, served ice cold. Warm dumplings and chilly soybeans- even my food matches the odd weather outside.
Unlike other places, the edamame are unseasoned- not even salted. Again, not even soy sauce on the table- you have it as it comes, as it was meant to be.
Finally, the paneer- sprinkled with black volcanic salt, lime juice, and raw grated ginger. The ginger is spicy and pungent, of course- what is the cook thinking? Who wants to eat just raw ginger root? Someone does- and I guess that’s me right now.
Another waitress sees me eyeing the plate and smiles- “You’ll love the black salt- it adds a sulfurous tang. It’s the best salt I’ve ever had- we put it on our yams too, you know.
“Sulfurous tang”? Raw ginger? Such aggressiveness in such a pleasingly peaceful meal?
Yes- and appropriately so. The paneer is tangy and cold- the lime and salt pull forward the sweet/sourness forward from what would otherwise be a simple farmer’s cheese. It’s the raw ginger that gives it aggression- or perhaps the word would be “backbone.”
It’s aggressive, not like a screaming lunatic- but of a motionless self-assurance. The ginger supports and is tempered by the lime and salt- making room for it, and giving it place on the plate. A fine, fiery dessert to a serene meal.
I linger over my tea, wanting to postpone my return to the world… but there are things to do, and I can’t stay. The check comes- $18 for a delicious moment of peace.
I could do this more- maybe instead of a few bar trips. Who couldn’t use more tea in their lives?
When: Hours are 11a – 10p daily. Mid- to late afternoons are best- the place is rarely crowded, and almost never noisy.
Why: Because you need a moment’s peace- a mini-vacation from your own worried mind, and all you want is serene simplicity.
How: Visit them in person, or for a real treat visit the Tower of Cosmic Reflections in Lan Su Garden. There is an admission price for the garden, and the tower is beholden to the gardens schedule. Visit their website at Taooftea.com to get their tea delivered anywhere in the US.
The Black Hat Baker 