A giant cup of tea in the lion's den

THERE'S one thing that sticks in my mind after visiting New York - the tempting aroma of freshly brewed beans wafting from every street corner.

- GREY MUTTER BY LANCE FREDERICKS

Yet, it didn’t take me long to learn that in the Big Apple, they don’t have coffee shops — they have “kawfee” shops.

More to the point, at the time I visited New York, I didn’t drink coffee. But the aroma was so tempting that I popped into a store once, just to check it out, and stared at the menu for a good few minutes. I saw lattes, espressos, macchiatos. There were cappuccinos, flat whites, Americanos, café au laits, and cortados... but no “coffee” on the menu. None. Zip. ZERO.

Back home in good old SA, the same thing appears to have happened. Walk into a coffee shop today and you're spoiled for choice. The varieties are staggering. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if someone invented a black flat white one day.

Why this is such a big deal to me is because when we were growing up, there were varieties too — but these varieties were, well, geographical.

Each household had its own way of making coffee or tea. Visit Aunty ‘A’ and the tea was milky and sweet. Aunty ‘B’ would only serve Rooibos without milk. At another home, you had to be careful drinking too far — because you'd always find a layer of tea leaves lurking at the bottom of your cup.