Around the Table Again

I hosted a home-based tea introduction recently — the first in a long while.I expected something small and quiet. Intimate, even.

What I didn’t expect: two full families arriving at the door, arms full of warmth, stories, and curiosity. They brought along tea brewing tools from a recent trip to China, and together we brewed a lightly oxidized Tie Guan Yin — floral, soft, with a gentle milky aftertaste.

tie guan yin, anxi

It was tender to witness. Not just the tea itself, but what happened around it.

How people leaned in. How stories were shared — how tea was enjoyed back in the old bak kut teh shops, memories around their China trip, the way locals brewed their teas and the little details they brought home in memory. All of it was poured out freely, alongside each round of tea.

And all of it joyfully accompanied by the family dog, weaving in and out under the table, becoming part of the rhythm — soft paws, tail wags, light-hearted interruptions.

It felt different from the on-premise workshops I used to run. Freer. There were fewer constraints — no need to stick to a fixed curriculum or structured lesson plan.

Instead, the conversations guided the session. Questions arose naturally, and so did the learning. It was soft, organic, and somehow more alive.

And in that simplicity, something clicked.

That afternoon reminded me why I chose to shift away from regular studio sessions. The intention hasn’t changed — only the pace, the setting, the way it unfolds. These days, it’s not about teaching more, or delivering “information.” It’s about offering space. To taste. To ask. To remember.

There’s still so much I hope to share — when the time is right, and the kettle is warm. For now, I’ll keep creating space like this, one cup at a time.

— L