In which I describe a tea failure of epic proportions...

Dear Reader,

Let me set the scene for you. It was a warm but not unpleasant summer afternoon. The kind which threatens rain.* The kind we British deem perfect barbecue whether. And indeed I did barbecue for it was the last evening of Cubs this term.

An enjoyable game of kwik cricket, two burgers and a few glasses of fiery ginger beer later I was satiated. The cubs all left with their respective guardians and I set off home.

On the drive back I got to thinking, as I often do, that I desired some good company and a pot of tea. Potentially even a biscuit to round off the evening.

*Indeed the rain did not fall though it did get gloomier.

The Return

The corridor was dark when I returned which did not bode well but my spirits were lifted by the sound of music from a friend's room. I knocked and they sadly stated they were indisposed even where tea was concerned. I thought to myself: "No matter, I'll just have a single cup. No need to break out the leaf tea then. A cup of Yorkshire Tea will do me just fine." Still looking forward to a lovely cuppa I proceeded to the kitchen...

I found the hilariously dishwashed tea bag holder empty.

Upon searching the cupboards I came to the sad conclusion that we must have indeed finished not only the Yorkshire Tea but also the Twinings Everyday. A most distressing set of circumstances but luckily my tea cupboard is vast and plentiful. I turned to it in my hour of need and found a single bag of Aspretto Breakfast Blend I had picked up at a conference with the intention of reviewing.

I put the kettle on to boil and thought that everything was once again returning to balance. My tea would be ready soon, order would be restored.

The Horror

A minute or so passed and the freshly boiled water was deposited carefully over the tea bag. While it brewed I amused myself with emptying the dishwasher. About 3 minutes later with a job well done I was in dire need of a cup of congratulatory tea. I removed the tea bag and detouring only slightly to the bin came by way of the fridge to be holding milk in my hands. A large 4-pint jug my housemates had told me to use as "there was no way they could possibly finish it". As with any milk from the other fridge† I did the cursory glance to check it was not curdled: "All white? Excellent! Tea time it is then!" and began to pour.

The milk came slowly, at first, then in increasingly larger lumps it flopped into my cup. I watched in abject horror as the milk I thought was pure and tasty did, in fact, have the consistency of cottage cheese. The catastrophic curds convulsed and congealed in my cup and dashed any hopes I had of a rejuvenating cuppa :(

In summary, dear reader, this was what I had hoped for:

I received something more like this:

It is with great regret that I must tell you that I was so upset and appalled by these proceedings that I immediately retired to my room for there was no milk with which to make another cup of tea. Thus my evening must end incomplete and devoid of tea.

Yours faithfully,

Thomas the Tea-taster

†The other fridge is, I'm pretty certain, less effective than the one I store my food in.