Last month, my veggie-loving friend in Rio, Celery Kabbage, brought me a sweet present of artichoke tea. I'd never had it before—neither had she—and we brewed a pot after dinner. As the artichoke leaves steeped, we imagined the gentle, pale green tones of artichoke distilled into pleasant tea form, perhaps a little on the weak side. I thought of the way that eating artichoke leaves a slightly sweet aftertaste to the water you drink with your meal. I took the improvised kettle off the stove-top and served us both. We blew delicately, then sipped...
... and nearly spit the evil witch's brew across the room. If Ms. Kabbage hadn't joined in the tasting, I might have thought she'd been trying to poison me. It reminded me of the bitter herbal infusion my dad's acupuncturist made him drink for his allergies or the taste of the betelnut I chewed to be social while sitting on the ground with old ladies in Vietnam. And yet somehow more foul than either, partly because I'd expected a more literally "artichokey" taste. [Please insert pun on arti-CHOKE here.]
Anyway, thistle is all to warn you: please to only drink the artichoke/alcachofra tea in case of interest in reputed medicinal qualities, such as stomach and liver relief and weight loss. I don't know how it's all supposed to work, but I can think of a whole bunch of smart alec responses about how this truly awful tasting tea can kill your appetite and make you forget your stomachache because of the bitter bitter flavor in your mouth that is disfiguring your facial expression. Or maybe I should focus on opening up my mind and all my vegetable chakras and try it again, only this time using 1 leaf per cup of boiling water...
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