Small Cups, Many Pours

“You can never get a cup of tea large enough…” -C.S. Lewis

The Chinese tea ritual I encountered in Washington D.C. felt like the opposite of the C.S. Lewis quotation. We found Ching Ching CHA on a quiet street in NW D.C. and went in with no idea what to expect. The shop itself is unassuming—just two tables in the middle of a room set for tea and two on a raised platform with cushions and low tables along the large window. The walls of the shop are lined with a huge variety of teapots and cups. Loose tea is sold in another section of the shop with exotic names like Yunnan Gold Needle and Imperial Keemun.

We were a little ill at ease at first, not quite sure what to do since reservations are not available online. But, after asking if we could order tea, the woman there instantly made us feel welcome. And, over the next couple of hours, what we discovered was a tea experience where tea is truly the center of attention.

The two of us each selected a tea from a menu. A large pottery pot was brought out first filled with water that was kept hot with a flame underneath. One thing quickly became clear: the cup seemed to matter just as much as the tea itself. Next, our server brought out two trays. My tray had three clear glass vessels on it. One was a tall narrow glass with two knobs on the sides. The second one was also tall and narrow but filled with bright green, tall, narrow tea leaves. The third glass was shorter but also clear. Monica’s tray held a short, squat teapot with a very small white porcelain cup with a lid. Her tea leaves were in the squat pot

Our server explained that teacups and infusers are selected based on the shape and type of tea leaves selected to drink. Before demonstrating how we were supposed to steep our tea, she held the glass with my tea leaves and asked me to tell her what I smelled—instant anxiety: my nightmare come to life. As you all know, my sense of smell – or lack thereof – has been a source of concern for me, so to be asked to describe what I was smelling out loud to an expert…yikes. I smelled—hard. A few times. And, I finally ventured to say, “I smell grass?” I was so happy and proud when she beamed at me and nodded her head.

Our server then showed me how to steep my tea leaves. Imagine my shock when she poured the hot water over my leaves and after just 10-15 seconds, poured the tea mixture into my drinking glass. Then, after showing Monica how hers must be steeped--which was different from mine--we were left alone.

There was no music, no food served, and I also discovered that nothing was added to our tea. No sugar, milk, or honey. Nothing. Water and leaves. Peace and quiet. It was simple and gorgeous. It was also unlike anything we had experienced before.

Monica and I talked about our trip—what we had already seen and what was still scheduled. But, we also started to talk about our tea—exchanging cups, learning how to pour each other’s tea—Monica’s was a bit tricky! We had countless pots of water, and that’s what our experience was about—many small cups of tea enjoyed without distraction.

I’m not sure how long we were there just sitting and enjoying each other’s company, but we were never made to feel rushed. I’m sure we could have spent all day in that little tea shop in Northwest DC, sitting and visiting with each other over our small cups of tea.

What I realized that afternoon was that tea didn’t require tiered trays, pastries, or anything added to the cup.

Without those things, the focus naturally shifted to the tea itself and to the conversation around the table.

Small cups, many pours, and zero distractions.

It was a very different kind of tea experience—and, one I will never forget.