Au contrair mon frere
J’aime le shop de Mariage Frere. Oui!
That delectable tea in its beat up tins,
the slim, possibly gay, boys, their sly
Bonjour madame counterpointing fey
linen suits, their readiness to d’accord
my requests for a vertical tasting
of Ceylons, Earl Greys, Assams, to decide
on Darjeeling instead of French Breakfast,
to absent-mindedly say, What was that
tea I sent to my son for his birthday?
Je ne sais quoi exactement je l’aime
about the crumbling colonial décor
as I take tea there of an afternoon –
it can’t be the tiny tables with no elbow room.
Perhaps the cultured feel of tea by the pot
on white table linen, of choosing from framboise,
citron ou chocolat pastry on the teacart, each
using a different tea in the recipe – tea cakes
Voici! they’re being witty with me.
As much as I love the chatter and splash
of le Marais street life in the spring rain,
I’ll slip into the Frere’s for une cent gram
in separate bags to send off to New York,
Healdsburg, San Francisco, Tatlintown or
take back with me to Amsterdam by train,
I’ll sit and put my feet up with one of the
Freres’ hundred different varieties, I’ll duck
down Ave Bourg ti Bourg again and again.
One of the unexpected gifts I have derived from my time in France is the introduction to the quality teas of Mariage Freres
My good CA friend, Renee, first sent me to their shop in le Marais district when she knew I was making a visit to Paris four years ago. Since tasting their tea, I’ve tried to have several varieties of the loose leaf with me wherever I’m living. I came near to running out last week and had to order some through the mail. Orders of 50 Euro or more are delivered free within France. Gentil!
The sun’s been out in force for the last week. I brew up a pot of tea in the morning and take mon petit déjeuner sur la terrasse. I sit in the sun and have a good soak until I'm warm to the bone.
Une étude: la porte des sœurs
3 years ago